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Aldrich, Mildred, 1853-1928

"A Hilltop on the Marne"

I fancy if I had not taken that tack he'd
have settled for the day.
"Put that thing on," I said, pointing to his pistol; "get your wheel out
of the barn, and I'll take a look up the road and see that it's clear.
I don't care to see you attacked under my eyes."
I knew that there was not the slightest danger of that, but it sounded
businesslike. I am afraid he found it so, because he said at once,
"Could you give me a drink before I go?"
"Water?" I said.
"No, not that."
I was going to say "no" when it occurred to me that Amelie had told me
that she had put a bottle of cider in the buffet, and--well, he was
Irish, and I wanted to get rid of him. So I said he could have a glass
of cider, and I got the bottle, and a small, deep champagne glass. He
uncorked the bottle, filled a brimming glass, recorked the bottle, drank
it off, and thanked me more earnestly than cider would have seemed to
warrant. While he got his wheel out I went through the form of making
sure the road was free. There was no one in sight. So I sent him away
with directions for reaching Couilly without going over the part of the
hill where the Uhlans had hidden, and drew a sigh of relief when he was
off.


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