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Hayward, Rachel

"The Hippodrome"


Arithelli heard nothing till she awoke to find herself in Vardri's
arms, and being lifted into a sitting position with her back against
the wall.
In answer to her sleepy murmur of surprise, a hand was laid over her
mouth with a whispered--"_Gare a toi petite! ne fais pas de bruit_."
She sat up fully awake, and swept the veil of hair out of her eyes.
"Oh! it's you, _mon ami_! Is it time to go? I must get up and see to
the horses."
But he held her kneeling by her side.
"No, no! Lie still, dear. There's time enough. Yes, Sobrenski is
still talking. Can't you hear him? You had my letter safely?"
She laid her hand on her breast.
"It's here."
"Thank you! How long is it since I've seen you? It seems like a
century. Those brutes up there were driving me mad with their
cold-blooded arrangements for wholesale murder. The latest idea is to
explode a bomb outside one of the big _cafes_ when Alfonso comes here
next week to inspect the troops. They might as well leave him alone.
What harm has he done them? As long as they can see people flying into
atoms with the help of a little nitroglycerine they are quite happy.


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