It is believed that in his last
years he was one of the first of the gentlemen of Picardy to adhere to the
Reformed faith.
CHAPTER 7. EAUCOURT BY THE WATERS
The horseman rode down the narrow vennel which led to the St. Denis gate of
Paris, holding his nose like a fine lady. Behind him the city reeked in a
close August twilight. From every entry came the smell of coarse cooking
and unclean humanity, and the heaps of garbage in the gutters sent up a fog
of malodorous dust when they were stirred by prowling dogs or hasty
passengers.
"Another week of heat and they will have the plague here, he muttered. Oh
for Eaucourt--Eaucourt by the waters! I have too delicate a stomach for
this Paris."
His thoughts ran on to the country beyond the gates, the fields about St.
Denis, the Clermont downs. Soon he would be stretching his bay on good
turf.
But the gates were closed, though it was not yet the hour of curfew. The
lieutenant of the watch stood squarely before him with a forbidding air,
while a file of arquebusiers lounged in the archway.
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