Victor Rousseau Emanuel

Victor Rousseau Emanuel

Summary

Portrait of Victor Rousseau Emanuel Victor Rousseau Emanuel The Angel of the Marne

Arnault was dead, but he had taken two German planes with him, and he had died for me.
That was my thought as, mad for revenge, I swung to meet the third Taube, which was now swooping down upon me. I had been told to avoid a fight if possible, but it was no longer possible, and even had it been, I doubt whether I could have obeyed. There are some situations where the elemental human instinct takes command; and when a man’s comrade has been killed almost at his side—well, that is one of them!
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Victor Rousseau Emanuel Victor Rousseau Emanuel The Angel of the Marne

But there was no levity in Philippe Roget’s clear blue eyes.
“It is an old affair,” he answered absently. Then he turned toward me. “I have never told you of my experiences when I was sent from the front with those dispatches for General Joffre,” he said. “I have rarely ever spoken of them. Do you believe in miracles, Sewell?”
I hesitated. I remembered that Captain Philippe had been what few of the army officers were in those days, a fervently religious man. I did not know what to say.
“Modern science seems to be taking a more tolerant attitude toward the supernatural,” I parried.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Victor Rousseau Emanuel Victor Rousseau Emanuel The Angel of the Marne

As the cordial the girl had given me began to take effect, life coursed through me again and I thought at once of my dispatches.
“I owe you a thousand thanks, Mademoiselle,” I said. “But now I must get on. I am bearing important dispatches for General Joffre. I have lost too much time already. Do you know how far the German lines extend?”
“Far into the heart of France,” she answered. “The outposts are at Vitry.”
“But that is a hundred miles away!” I cried.
“The Boche has advanced fast. But have courage, my friend.
Source: Wikisource

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