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Merriman, Henry Seton, 1862-1903

"Barlasch of the Guard"


Without desisting, he looked over his shoulder towards Desiree, but
not actually at her face.
"I heard last night," he said, "that the two carriages are standing
in an inn-yard three leagues beyond this on the Warsaw road. I have
traced them step by step from Kowno. My informant tells me that the
escort has deserted, and that the officer in charge, Colonel
Darragon, was going on alone, with the two drivers, when he was
taken ill. He is nearly well again, and hopes to continue his
journey to-morrow or the next day."
Desiree nodded her head to signify that she had heard and
understood. Barlasch gave a cry of pain, and withdrew his hand with
a jerk.
"Enough, enough!" he said. "You hurt me. The life is returning
now; a drop of brandy perhaps--"
"There is no brandy in Thorn," said D'Arragon, turning towards the
table. "There is only coffee."
He busied himself with the cups, and did not look at Desiree when he
spoke again.
"I have secured two horses," he said, "to enable you to proceed at
once, if you are able to. But if you would rather rest here to-day-
-"
"Let us go on at once," interrupted Desiree hastily.
Barlasch, crouching against the stove, glanced from one to the other
beneath his heavy brows, wondering, perhaps, why they avoided
looking at each other.
"You will wait here," said D'Arragon, turning towards him, "until--
until I return."
"Yes," was the answer. "I will lie on the floor here and sleep.


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