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Kirby, William, 1817-1906

"The Golden Dog"

She was deposed, and another raised to
her place. Such may be my fate, Francois."
"Then you will not go, Caroline?"
"No; kill me if you like, and bear my dead body into the hall, but
living, I can never show my face again before men--hardly before
you, Francois," added she, blushing, as she hid her tearful eyes on
his shoulder.
"Well then, Caroline," replied, he, really admiring her spirit and
resolution, "they shall finish their carouse without seeing you.
The wine has flowed to-night in rivers, but they shall swim in it
without you."
"And tears have flowed down here," said she, sadly,--"oh, so bitter!
May you never taste their bitterness, Francois!"
Bigot paced the chamber with steadier steps than he had entered it.
The fumes were clearing from his brain; the song that had caught the
ear of Colonel Philibert as he approached the Chateau was resounding
at this moment. As it ceased Bigot heard the loud impatient
knocking of Philibert at the outer door.
"Darling!" said he, "lie down now, and compose yourself. Francois
Bigot is not unmindful of your sacrifices for his sake.


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