A man, extremely good-looking and well made, in the uniform of a marshal
of France, his cocked hat fringed and plumed, and the colour of his coat
almost concealed by its embroidery, played a clarionet like a master;
four youths of a tender age, remarkable both for their beauty and their
grace, dressed in very handsome scarlet uniforms, with white scarfs,
performed upon French horns and similar instruments with great energy
and apparent delight; behind them an honest Blouse, hired for the
occasion, beat the double drum.
'Two of them are girls,' said Therese; 'and they are all the same
family, except the drummer, who belongs, I hear, to Ypres. Sometimes
there are six of them, two little ones, who, I suppose, are left at home
to-day; they look quite like little angels; the boy plays the triangle
and his sister beats a tambourine.'
'They are great artists,' murmured Sidonia to himself, as he listened to
their performance of one of Donizetti's finest compositions. The father
stood in the centre of the great square, the other musicians formed a
circle round him; they continued their performance for about ten minutes
to a considerable audience, many of whom had followed them, while the
rest had collected at their appearance.
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