The Last Vendée; or, the She-Wolves of Machecoul. Alexandre DumasЧитать онлайн книгу.
Oullier was afraid of appearing afraid.
"Come," said he, "enough of this. If you want to sell yourself apply to others. Such bargains are hateful to me, even if I had any means of making them. They don't concern me, God be thanked."
"Is that your last word, Jean Oullier?"
"My first and my last. Go your ways, Maître Courtin, and leave me to mine."
"So much the worse for you," said Courtin, rising; "but, on my word, I would gladly have gone your way."
So saying, he nodded to Jean Oullier and went out. He had hardly crossed the threshold before Aubin Courte-Joie, stumping along on his wooden legs, came close to Jean Oullier.
"You have done a foolish thing," he whispered.
"What ought I to have done?"
"Taken him to Louis Renaud or to Gaspard; they would have bought him."
"Him,--that wicked traitor?"
"My good Jean, in 1815, when I was mayor, I went to Nantes, and there I saw a man named ----, who was, or had been, a minister; and I heard him say two things I have always remembered. One was that traitors make and unmake empires; the other was that treachery is the only thing in this world that is not to be measured by the size of him who makes it."
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