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William Makepeace Thackeray: Vanity Fair32. XXXII: In Which Jos Takes Flight, and the War Is Brought to a Close (continued)Isidor answered that summons. Jos had sunk in a chair --he had torn off his neckcloths, and turned down his collars, and was sitting with both his hands lifted to his throat. "Coupez-moi, Isidor," shouted he; "vite! Coupez-moi!" Isidor thought for a moment he had gone mad, and that he wished his valet to cut his throat. "Les moustaches," gasped Joe; "les moustaches-- coupy, rasy, vite!"--his French was of this sort--voluble, as we have said, but not remarkable for grammar. Isidor swept off the mustachios in no time with the razor, and heard with inexpressible delight his master's orders that he should fetch a hat and a plain coat. "Ne porty ploo--habit militair--bonn--bonny a voo, prenny dehors"--were Jos's words--the coat and cap were at last his property. This gift being made, Jos selected a plain black coat and waistcoat from his stock, and put on a large white neckcloth, and a plain beaver. If he could have got a shovel hat he would have worn it. As it was, you would have fancied he was a flourishing, large parson of the Church of England. "Venny maintenong," he continued, "sweevy--ally-- party--dong la roo." And so having said, he plunged swiftly down the stairs of the house, and passed into the street. Although Regulus had vowed that he was the only man of his regiment or of the allied army, almost, who had escaped being cut to pieces by Ney, it appeared that his statement was incorrect, and that a good number more of the supposed victims had survived the massacre. Many scores of Regulus's comrades had found their way back to Brussels, and all agreeing that they had run away--filled the whole town with an idea of the defeat of the allies. The arrival of the French was expected hourly; the panic continued, and preparations for flight went on everywhere. No horses! thought Jos, in terror. He made Isidor inquire of scores of persons, whether they had any to lend or sell, and his heart sank within him, at the negative answers returned everywhere. Should he take the journey on foot? Even fear could not render that ponderous body so active. This is page 364 of 809. [Mark this Page] Mark any page to add this title to Your Bookshelf. (0 / 10 books on shelf) Buy a copy of Vanity Fair at Amazon.com
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