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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Headsman The Abbaye des Vignerons"


As yet, there had been no wind. The guide, as minute after minute passed
without bringing any change in this respect, ventured at last to advert to
the fact, cheering his companions by giving them reasons to hope that they
should yet reach the convent without any serious calamity. As if in
mockery of this opinion, the flakes of snow began to whirl in the air,
while the words were on his lips, and a blast came through the ravine,
that set the protection of cloaks and mantles at defiance. Notwithstanding
his resolution and experience, the stout-hearted Pierre suffered an
exclamation of despair to escape him, and he instantly stopped, in the
manner of a man who could no longer conceal the dread that had been
collecting in his bosom for the last interminable and weary hour.
Sigismund, as well as most of the men of the party, had dismounted a
little previously, with a view to excite warmth by exercise. The youth had
often traversed the mountains, and the cry no sooner reached his ear, than
he was at the side of him who uttered it.
"At what distance, are we still from the convent?" he demanded eagerly.


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