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ANGELOT
A Story of the First Empire

By
ELEANOR C. PRICE

_Author of
"The Heiress of the Forest"_

NEW YORK
Thomas Y. Crowell & Co.
PUBLISHERS

_Copyright, 1902, by_ THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.

[Illustration: "YOU FORGET YOURSELF--YOU ARE MAD," SHE SAID HAUGHTILY.]




CONTENTS

  CHAPTER                                                           PAGE

      I. In the Depths of Old France                                   1

     II. How the Owls hooted in the Daytime                           13

    III. "Je suis le General Bim-Bam-Boum!"                           26

     IV. How the Breakfast cooked for Those was eaten by These        41

      V. How Angelot made an Enemy                                    59

     VI. How La Belle Helene took an Evening Walk                     78

    VII. The Sleep of Mademoiselle Moineau                            95

   VIII. How Monsieur Joseph met with Many Annoyances                112

     IX. How Common Sense fought and triumphed                       129

      X. How Angelot refused what had not been offered               147

     XI. How Monsieur Urbain smoked a Cigar                          160

    XII. How the Prefect's Dog snapped at the General                173

   XIII. How Monsieur Simon showed himself a little too Clever       187

    XIV. In which Three Words contain a Good Deal of Information     202

     XV. How Henriette read History to Some Purpose                  223

    XVI. How Angelot played the Part of an Owl in an Ivy-bush        242

   XVII. How Two Soldiers came Home from Spain                       266

  XVIII. How Captain Georges paid a Visit of Ceremony                285

    XIX. The Treading of the Grapes                                  299

     XX. How Angelot climbed a Tree                                  309

    XXI. How Monsieur Joseph found himself Master of the Situation   324

   XXII. The Lighted Windows of Lancilly                             340

  XXIII. A Dance with General Ratoneau                               353

   XXIV. How Monsieur de Sainfoy found a Way Out                     369

    XXV. How the Cure acted against his Conscience                   385

   XXVI. How Angelot kept his Tryst                                  398

  XXVII. How Monsieur Joseph went out into the Dawn                  416

 XXVIII. How General Ratoneau met his Match                          437

   XXIX. The Disappointment of Monsieur Urbain                       456





ANGELOT

A Story of the First Empire




CHAPTER I

IN THE DEPTHS OF OLD FRANCE


"Drink, Monsieur Angelot," said the farmer.

His wife had brought a bottle of the sparkling white wine of the
country, and two tall old treasures of cut glass. The wine slipped out
in a merry foam. Angelot lifted his glass with a smile and bow to the
mistress.

"The best wine in the country," he said as he set it down.

The hard lines of her face, so dark, so worn with perpetual grief and
toil, softened suddenly as she looked at him, and the farmer from his
solemn height broke into a laugh.

"Martin's wine," he said. "That was before they took him, the last boy.
But it is still rather new, Monsieur Angelot, though you are so amiable.
Ah, but it is the last good wine I shall ever have here at La
Joubardiere. I am growing old--see my white hair--I cannot work or make
other men work as the boys did. Our vintage used to be one of the sights
of the country--I needn't tell you, for you know--but now the vines
don't get half the care and labour they did ten years ago; and they feel
it, like children, they feel it. Still, there they remain, and give us
what fruit they can--but the real children, Monsieur Angelot, their
life-blood runs to waste in far-away lands. It does not enrich France.
Ah, the vines of Spain will grow the better for it, perhaps--"

"Hush, hush, master!" muttered the wife, for the old man was not
laughing now; his last words were half a sob, and tears ran suddenly
down. "I tell you always," she said, "Martin will come back. The good
God cannot let our five boys die, one after the other. Madame your
mother thinks so too," she said, nodding at Angelot. "I spoke to her
very plainly. I said, '_They_ cannot be unjust--and surely, to take all
the five children of a poor little farmer, and to leave not one, not
even the youngest, to do the work of the farm--come, what sort of
justice is that!' And she said: 'Listen, maitresse: the good God will
bring your Martin back to you. He cannot be unjust, as you say. If my
Angelot had to go to the war--and I always fear it--I should expect him
back as surely as I expect my husband back from Lancilly at this