“It was perhaps my fault. A door led to the inner room; and it was evident from the peals of merriment, and other noises, that, ever and anon, resounded from within, that this chamber was occupied by the Marquis and his friends. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. One cannot expect that soldiers can be sympathique to one they believe may be a French spy. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around.
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