Denys tore him off her. It was
needless. She panted still, and her limbs quivered, but a hare was not
so harmless; and soon she breathed her last; and the judicious Denys
propped Gerard up against her, being soft, and fanned him. He came to
by degrees, but confused, and feeling the bear around him, rolled away,
yelling.
"Courage," cried Denys, "le diable est mort."
"Is it dead? quite dead?" inquired Gerard from behind a tree; for his
courage was feverish, and the cold fit was on him just now, and had been
for some time.
"Behold," said Denys, and pulled the brute's ear playfully, and opened
her jaws and put in his head, with other insulting antics; in the midst
of which Gerard was violently sick.
Denys laughed at him.
"What is the matter now?" said he, "also, why tumble off your perch just
when we had won the day?"
"I swooned, I trow."
"But why?"
Not receiving an answer, he continued, "Green girls faint as soon
as look at you, but then they choose time and place. What woman ever
fainted up a tree?"
"She sent her nasty blood all over me. I think the smell must have
overpowered me! Faugh! I hate blood."
"I do believe it potently."
"See what a mess she has made me
"But with her blood, not yours. I pity the enemy that strives to satisfy
you."'
"You need not to brag, Maitre Denys; I saw you under the tree, the
colour of your shirt.
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