CHAPTER XVII.

SWORD AND DAGGER

M. de la Chatre could not have been more surprised if a spirit had risen

from the floor at his feet. He stared at me with startled eyes. I had

sheathed my sword while behind the curtains, and now I stood motionless,

with folded arms, before him. Mademoiselle uttered a slight cry.

Montignac, who stood beside her, was as much taken aback as La Chatre

was, but was quicker to comprehend the situation. Without moving from his

attitude of surprise, he regarded me with intense curiosity and hate.

This was his first sight of me, hence his curiosity. He had already

inferred that mademoiselle loved me, therefore his hate.

"Who are you?" said La Chatre, at last, in a tone of mingled alarm and

resentment, as one might address a supernatural intruder.

"The Sieur de la Tournoire," said I, "standing face to face with you in

the château of Clochonne! You shall give mademoiselle that order for her

father's release, or you shall never break your word again."

And I drew my sword, and held it with its point towards his breast.

The fear of death blanched his cheeks and spurred his dull wits.

"Montignac," he cried, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, "if this man makes

a move, kill the woman!"

In his situation of peril, his mind had become agile. He had suddenly

perceived how things were between mademoiselle and me.

As I have shown, Montignac stood with mademoiselle at some distance from

La Chatre and myself. I dared not take my eye from the governor, lest he

should step out of reach of my sword; but I could hear Montignac quickly

unsheathe his dagger, and mademoiselle give a sharp ejaculation of pain.

Then I turned my head for a moment's glance, and saw that he had caught

her wrist in a tight grasp, and that he held his dagger ready to plunge

it into her breast.

For a short time we stood thus, while I considered what to do next. It

was certain that Montignac would obey the governor's order, if only out

of hatred for me and in revenge on her for his despised love, though he

might fall by my sword a moment later. Therefore, I did not dare go to

attack him any more than I dared attack La Chatre. The governor, of

course, would not let her be killed unless I made some hostile movement,

for if she were dead nothing could save him from me, unless help came. He

feared to call for help, I suppose, lest rather than be taken I should

risk a rush at Montignac, and have himself for an instant at my mercy,

after all.

I cast another glance at Montignac, and measured the distance from me to

him, to consider whether I might reach him before he could strike

mademoiselle. La Chatre must have divined my thought, for he said:

"Montignac, I will deal with this gentleman. Take mademoiselle into that

chamber and close the door." And he pointed to the door immediately

behind mademoiselle, the one by which I had first seen her enter.

"But, monsieur--" began Montignac.

"I had not quite finished, Montignac," went on La Chatre. "I have my

reason for desiring you and the lady to withdraw. Fear not to leave me

with him. Lame as I am, I am no match for him, it is true, but

mademoiselle shall continue to be a hostage for his good behavior."

"I understand," said Montignac, "but how shall I know--?"

"Should M. de la Tournoire make one step towards me," said the

governor,--here he paused and took up the hunting-horn and looked at it,

but presently dropped it and pointed to the bowl of fruit on the table

near the fireplace,--"I shall strike this bowl, thus." He struck the

bowl with his stick, and it gave forth a loud, metallic ring, like that

previously produced by Montignac's dagger from the tray on the other

table. "The voice is not always to be relied on," continued the governor.

"Sometimes it fails when most needed. But a sound like this," and he

struck the bowl again, "can be made instantly and with certainty. Should

you hear one stroke on the bowl,--one only, not followed quickly by a

second stroke,--let mademoiselle pay for the rashness of her champion!"

"Yes, monsieur," replied Montignac, a kind of diabolical triumph in

his voice.

"It may be," said La Chatre, "that no such violent act will be necessary,

and that I shall merely require your presence here. In that case, I shall

strike twice rapidly, thus. Therefore, when you hear a stroke, wait an

instant lest there be a second stroke. But if there be no second, act as

I have told you."

"After you, mademoiselle," said Montignac, indicating by a motion his

desire that she should precede him backward out of the chamber. He still

clutched her arm and held his dagger aloft, intending thus to back out of

the room after her.

"I will not go!" she answered, trying to resist the force that he was

using on her arm.

This was the first resistance she had offered She had previously stood

motionless beneath his lifted dagger, feeling herself unable to break

from his grasp of iron, and supposing that any effort to do so would

bring down the dagger into her delicate breast. A woman's instinctive

horror of such a blow deterred her from the slightest movement that might

invite it. She had trusted to me for what action might serve to save us

from our enemies. But now her terror of leaving my presence, and her

horror of being alone with Montignac, overcame her fear of the dagger. "I

will not go!" she repeated.

"Go, mademoiselle," said I, gently, taking her glove from my belt, where

I had placed it, and kissing it, to show that I was still her devoted

chevalier. "Go! 'Tis the better way." For I welcomed any step that might

take Montignac from the chamber, and leave La Chatre's wit unaided to

cope with mine.

Her eyes showed submission, and she immediately obeyed the guidance

of Montignac's hand. Facing me still, he went out after her, and

closed the door.

I was alone with La Chatre.

"My secretary stood a little too near the point of your sword," said the

governor, "for the perfect security of my hostage. There was just a

possibility of your being too quick for him. I saw that you were

contemplating that possibility. As it is now, should I give him the

signal,--as I shall if you move either towards me or towards that

chamber,--he could easily put mademoiselle out of the way before you

could open the door. Not that I desire harm to mademoiselle. Her death

would not serve me at all It would, indeed, be something that I should

have to deplore. If I should deplore it, how much more would you! And

since you surely will not be so ungallant as to cause the death of so

charming a lady, I think I have you, let us say, at a slight

disadvantage!" And he sat down beside the table near the fireplace.

"I think not so, monsieur," said I, touching lightly with my sword's

point the tray on the table near the bed; "for should you strike once on

your bowl, I should very quickly strike once on this tray, so that two

strokes would be heard, and the obedient Montignac, mindful of his

orders, would enter this chamber, _not_ having slain mademoiselle."

I ought not to have disclosed this, my advantage. I ought rather to have

summoned Montignac by two strokes on the tray, and been at the door to

receive him. But I had not waited to consider. I spoke of the advantage

as soon as I noticed it, supposing that La Chatre, on seeing it, would

think himself at my mercy and would come to my terms. He was taken back

somewhat, it is true, but not much.

"Pah!" he said "After all, I could shout to him."

"It would be your last shouting. Moreover, your shouted orders would be

cut off unfinished, and the punctilious Montignac would be left in doubt

as to your wishes. Rather than slay mademoiselle on an uncertainty, he

would come hither to assure himself,--in which case God pity him!"

"Thank you for your warning, monsieur," said La Chatre, with mock

courtesy. "There shall be no shouting."

Whereupon he struck the bowl with his stick. Taken by surprise, I could

only strike my tray with my sword, so that two strokes might surely be

heard, although at the same time he gave a second stroke, showing that

his intention was merely to summon Montignac. In my momentary fear for

mademoiselle's life, and with my thoughts instantly concentrated on

striking the tray, I did not have the wit to leap to the door and receive

Montignac on my sword's point, as I would have done had I myself summoned

him, or had I expected La Chatre's signal.

So there I stood, far from the door, when it opened, and the secretary

advanced his foot across the threshold. Even then I made a movement as if

to rush on him, but he brought forward his left hand and I saw that it

still clutched the white wrist of mademoiselle. Only her arm was visible

in the doorway. Montignac still held his dagger raised. One step

backward and one thrust, and he could lay her dead at his feet. Had I

been ready at the door for him, I could have killed him before he could

have made these two movements; but from where I stood, I could not have

done so. So I listened in some chagrin to the governor's words.

"I change the signal, Montignac. At one stroke, do not harm the lady, but

come hither; but should you hear two strokes, or three, or any number

more, she is to be sacrificed."

"My dagger is ready, monsieur!"

Again the door closed; again I was alone with La Chatre.

I had lost my former advantage. For now, should I strike my tray

once, for the purpose of summoning Montignac, so that I might be at

the door to slay him at first sight, the governor could strike his

bowl, and Montignac would hear two strokes or more--signal for

mademoiselle's death.

"And now, monsieur," said the governor, making himself comfortable in his

chair between table and fireplace, "let us talk. You see, if you approach

me or that door, or if you start to leave this chamber, I can easily

strike the bowl twice before you take three steps."

I could see that he was not as easy in his mind as he pretended to be. It

was true that, as matters now were, his life was secure through my regard

for mademoiselle's; but were he to attempt leaving the room or calling

help, or, indeed, if help were to come uncalled, and I should find my own

life or liberty threatened, I might risk anything, even mademoiselle's

life, for the sake of revenge on him. He would not dare save himself by

letting me go free out of his own château. To do that would bring down

the wrath of the Duke of Guise, would mean ruin. That I knew well. If I

should go to leave the chamber, he would give the signal for Montignac to

kill mademoiselle. As for me. I did not wish to go without her or until I

should have accomplished a certain design I had conceived. Thus I was La

Chatre's prisoner, and he was mine. Each could only hope, by thought or

talk, to arrive at some means of getting the better of the other.

La Chatre's back was towards the door by which I had entered. By mere

chance, it seemed, I turned my head towards that door. At that instant,

my man, Frojac, appeared in the doorway. He had approached with the

silence of a ghost. He carried the arquebus that had belonged to the

guardsman, and his match was burning. Risking all on the possible effect

of a sudden surprise on the governor, I cried, sharply:

"Fire on that man, Frojac, if he moves."

La Chatre, completely startled, rose from his chair and turned about,

forgetful of the stick and bowl. When his glance reached Frojac, my good

man had his arquebus on a line with the governor's head, the match

dangerously near the breech.

"I have looked after the guards, monsieur," said Frojac, cheerily,

"both of them."

"Stand where you are," said I to him, "and if that gentleman attempts to

strike that bowl, see that he does not live to strike it more than once."

"He shall not strike it even once, monsieur!"

"You see, M. de la Chatre," said I, "the contents of an arquebus travel

faster than a man can."

"This is unfair!" were the first words of the governor, after his season

of dumb astonishment.

"Pardon me," said I. "It is but having you, let us say, at a slight

disadvantage; and now I think I may move."

I walked over to the governor's table and took up the bowl. La Chatre

watched me in helpless chagrin, informing himself by a side glance that

Frojac's weapon still covered him.

"You look somewhat irritated and disgusted, monsieur," said I. "Pray

sit down!"

As I held my sword across the table, the point in close proximity to his

chest, he obeyed, uttering a heavy sigh at his powerlessness. I then

threw the bowl into the bed, taking careful aim so that it might make no

sound. At that moment I saw La Chatre look towards the chamber in which

were Montignac and mademoiselle, and there came on his face the sign of

a half-formed project.

"See also, Frojac," said I, "that he does not open his mouth to shout."

"He shall be as silent as if born dumb, monsieur."

"Oh, he may speak, but not so loud as to be heard in the next chamber.

Look to it, Frojac."

"Very well, monsieur."

For I did not wish, as yet, that Montignac should know what was going on.

Through the closed door and the thick tapestried walls, only a loud cry,

or some such sound as a stroke on the resonant bowl or tray, could have

reached him. We had spoken in careful tones, La Chatre not daring to

raise his voice. Thus the closing of the door, intended by the governor

to make Montignac safer from a sudden rush on my part, now served my own

purpose. It is true that, since Frojac had appeared, and the governor

could not make his signal, I might have summoned Montignac by a single

stroke, and despatched him in the doorway. But now that my own position

was easier, I saw that such a manoeuvre, first contemplated when only a

desperate stroke seemed possible, was full of danger to mademoiselle. I

might bungle it, whereupon Montignac would certainly attempt one blow

against her, though it were his last. I must, therefore, use the governor

to release her from her perilous situation; but first I must use him for

another purpose, which the presence of the keen-witted Montignac might

defeat. Hence, the secretary was not yet to be made aware of the turn

things had taken.

There were three quills on the table. I took up one of them and dipped it

in the horn of ink.

"Shall I tell you of what you are thinking, monsieur," said I, observing

on the governor's face a new expression, that of one who listens and

makes some mental calculation.

"Amuse yourself as you please, monsieur," he answered.

"You are thinking, first, that as I am in your château, and not alone, I

have, doubtless, deprived you of all the soldiers left to guard your

château; secondly, that at a certain time, a few hours ago, your troops

set out for my residence; that they have probably now learned that I am

not there; that they have consequently started to return. You are asking

yourself what will happen if I am here when they arrive. Will I kill you

before I allow myself to be taken? Probably, you say. Men like me value

themselves highly, and sell themselves dearly. You would rather that I

leave before they come. Then you can send them on my track. Very well;

write, monsieur!" And I handed him the pen.

He looked at me with mingled vindictiveness and wonder, as if it were

remarkable that I had uttered the thoughts that any one in his position

must have had. Mechanically he took the pen.

"What shall I write?" he muttered.

"Write thus: To M. de Brissard, governor of Fleurier. Release M. de

Varion immediately. Let him accompany the man who bears this and who

brings a horse for him."

With many baitings, many side glances at Frojac's arquebus and my

sword-point, many glum looks and black frowns, he wrote, while I watched

from across the table. Then he threw the document towards me.

"Sign and seal," I said, tossing it back to him.

With intended slovenliness he affixed the signature and seal, then threw

the pen to the floor. I took the order, scanned it, and handed him

another pen.

"Excellent!" said I. "And now again!"

He made a momentary show of haughty, indignant refusal, but a movement of

my sword quelled the brief revolt in him.

"The bearer of this," I dictated, "M. de Varion, is to pass free in the

province, and to cross the border where he will."

This time he signed and affixed the seal without additional request. He

threw the second pen after the first, and looked up at me with a scowl.

"A bold, brave signature, monsieur! There is one pen left!" and I handed

him the third quill.

He took it with a look of wrath, after which he gave a sigh of forced

patience, and sat ready to write.

"The bearer of this, Ernanton de Launay--"

"Ernanton de Launay?" he repeated, looking up inquiringly.

"Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire,--" I went on.

He stared at me aghast, as if my presumption really passed all bounds,

but a glint of light on my sword caught his eye, he carried his eye along

to the point, which was under his nose, and he wrote:

"--is to pass free in the province, and from it, with all his company."

"No, no, no! I will never write that!"

Without an instant's hesitation, I drew back my sword as if to add weight

to an intended thrust. He gasped, and then finished the pass, signed it,

and attached the seal.

"Be assured," I said, as I took up the last order, "these will be used

before you shall have time to countermand them." He gritted his teeth at

this. "I thank you heartily, monsieur, and shall ask you to do no more

writing. But one favor will I claim,--the loan of a few gold pieces for

M. de Varion. Come, monsieur, your purse has ever been well fed!"

With a look of inward groaning, he negligently handed me some pieces, not

counting them.

"_Parbleu!_" he said. "You will ask me for my château next."

"All in good time. It is a good jest, monsieur, that while you visit me

at Maury by proxy, I return the visit at Clochonne in person and find

your château unguarded. To complete the jest, I need only take

possession. But I am for elsewhere. Frojac, come here."

While Frojac approached, I held my sword ready for any movement on

the part of my unhappy adversary, for I saw him cast a furtive look

at the tray on the other table, and I read on his face the birth of

some new design.

Rapidly I gave Frojac my commands, with the gold and the two orders

first written.

"Take this order immediately, with my horse and your own, to the château

of Fleurier. Secure M. de Varion's release, and fly with him at once from

the province, leaving by the western border, so that you cannot possibly

be forestalled by any troops or counter-orders that this gentleman may

send from here. Make your way speedily to Guienne."

"And in Guienne, monsieur?"

"You will doubtless find me at the camp of Henri of Navarre. As soon as

you see M. de Varion, assure him of the safety of his daughter. And now

to horse!"

"I am already on my way, monsieur!" And the good fellow ran from the

chamber and down the stairs. In a few moments I heard the horses

clattering out of the courtyard and over the bridge. Pleased at his zeal

and swiftness, I stepped to the window to wave him a godspeed. I thus

turned my back towards La Chatre.

Frojac saw me and waved in response, as he dashed down the moonlit way

towards the road to Fleurier.

I heard a stealthy noise behind me, and, turning, saw what made me

fiercely repent my momentary forgetfulness and my reliance on the

governor's lameness. The sight revealed plainly enough what new idea had

come into La Chatre's mind,--simply that, if he should give the signal

for mademoiselle's death, I would probably not stay to attack him, but

would instantly rush into the next chamber in the hope of saving her. He

could then fasten the door, and so hold me prisoner in that chamber until

the return of his troops. Well for us that he had not thought of this

before the arrival of Frojac!

He was already near the table on which was the tray, when I turned and

saw him. He raised his stick to strike the tray. I rushed after him.

He brought down his stick. The tray sounded, loud and bell-like. He heard

me coming, and raised his stick again. The second clang would be the

death-knell of my beloved!

But my sword was in time, my arm served. The blade met the descending

stick and knocked it from the governor's grasp. The same rush that took

me between La Chatre and the table carried me across the chamber to a

spot at one side of the door which Montignac at that moment threw open.

"You struck once, did you not, monsieur?" said Montignac, not seeing me,

for he naturally looked towards the centre of the chamber.

He held mademoiselle's wrist in his left hand, his dagger in his right. I

was at his right side. I was too near him to use my sword with effect, so

I contented myself with stepping quickly behind him and bringing my fist

down on his left arm above the elbow. This unexpected blow made him

involuntarily release mademoiselle's wrist, and informed him of my

whereabouts. The impulse of self-preservation caused him to rush forward

and turn. I then stepped in front of mademoiselle and faced him. All

this, from my turning from the window, was done in a moment.

"And now, M. de la Chatre," said I, "you may strike the bowl as often as

you please."

"M. de la Chatre," said Montignac, in a quick, resolute voice, "give me

leave to finish this!"

"As you will, Montignac!" replied the governor, moving towards the

window. His movement betrayed his thought. If his troops should return in

the next few minutes, I would be too busy with Montignac to attack

himself. There were two hopes for him. One was that, by some miracle,

Montignac might kill or wound me. The other was that the troops might

return before I should have finished with Montignac. La Chatre had

doubtless inferred that I had brought with me none of my men but Frojac;

therefore I alone was to be feared.

Montignac, keeping his eyes fixed on me, transferred his dagger to his

left hand, and drew his sword with his right. I, with my sword already in

my right hand, drew my dagger with my left.

"Monsieur," said I to Montignac, "I see with pleasure that you are not

a coward."

"You shall see what you shall see, monsieur!" he answered, in the voice

of a man who fears nothing and never loses his wits.

It was, indeed, a wonder that this man of thought could become so

admirable a man of action. There was nothing fragile in this pale

student. His eyes took on the hardness of steel. Never did more

self-reliant and resolute an antagonist meet me. The hate that was

manifest in his countenance did not rob him of self-possession. It only

strengthened and steadied him. At first I thought him foolhardy to face

so boldly an antagonist who wore a breastplate, but later I found that,

beneath his jerkin, he was similarly protected. I suppose that he had

intended to accompany the troops to Maury, had so prepared himself for

battle, and had not found opportunity, after the change of intention, to

divest himself.

Conscious of mademoiselle's presence behind me, I stood for a moment

awaiting the secretary's attack. In that moment did I hear, or but seem

to hear, the sound of many horses' footfalls on the distant road? I did

not wait to assure myself. Knowing that, if the governor's troops had

indeed found Maury abandoned, and had returned, quick work was

necessary, I attacked at the same instant as my adversary did. As I

would no more than disable an antagonist less protected than myself, I

made to touch him lightly in his right side; but my point, tearing away

a part of his jerkin, gave the sound and feel of metal, and thus I

learned that he too wore body armor. I was pleased at this; for now we

were less unequal than I had thought, and I might use full force. He had

tried to turn with his dagger this my first thrust, but was not quick

enough, whereas my own dagger caught neatly the sword-thrust that he

made simultaneously with mine.

"Oh, M. de Launay!" cried mademoiselle, behind me, in a voice of terror,

at the first swift clash of our weapons.

"Fear not for me, mademoiselle!" I cried, catching Montignac's blade

again with my dagger, and giving a thrust which he avoided by

leaping backward.

"Good, Montignac!" cried La Chatre, looking on from the window. "He

cannot reach you! If you cannot kill him, you may keep him engaged till

the troops come back!"

"I shall kill him!" was Montignac's reply, while he faced me with set

teeth and relentless eyes.

"Listen, monsieur!" cried mademoiselle. "If you die, I shall die with

you!" And she ran from behind me to the centre of the chamber, where I

could see her.

"And if I live?" I shouted, narrowly stopping a terrible thrust, and

stepping back between the table and the bed.

"If we live, I am yours forever! Ernanton, I love you!"

At last she had confessed it with her lips! For the first time, she had

called me by my Christian name! My head swam with joy.

"You kill me with happiness, Julie!" I cried, overturning the table

towards Montignac to gain a moment's breath.

"I shall kill you with my sword!" Montignac hurled the words through

clenched teeth. "For, by God, you shall have no happiness with her!"

His white face had an expression of demoniac hate, yet his thrusts became

the more adroit and swift, his guard the more impenetrable and firm. His

body was as sinuous as a wild beast's, his eye as steady. The longer he

fought, the more formidable he became as an adversary. He was worth a

score of Vicomtes de Berquin.

"Ernanton," cried mademoiselle, "you know all my treachery!"

"I know that you would have saved your father," I answered, leaping

backward upon the bed, to avoid the secretary's impetuous rush; "and

that I have saved him, and that, God willing, we shall soon meet him

in Guienne!"

"If he meets you, it will be in hell!" With this, Montignac jumped upon

the bed after me, and there was some close dagger play while I turned to

back out between the posts at the foot.

At this moment La Chatre gave a loud, jubilant cry, and mademoiselle,

looking out of the window, uttered a scream of consternation.

"The troops at last!" shouted La Chatre. "Hold out but another minute,

Montignac!"

So then I had heard aright. Alas, I thought, that the river road to Maury

should be so much shorter than the forest road; alas, that the governor's

troops should have had time to return ere Blaise had reached the junction

of the roads!

"My God, the soldiers have us in a trap!" cried mademoiselle, while I

caught Montignac's dagger-point with a bed-curtain, and stepped backward

from the bed to the floor.

"And mademoiselle shall be mine!"

As he uttered these words with a fiendish kind of elation, Montignac

leaped from the bed after me, releasing his dagger by pulling the curtain

from its fastening, while at the same time his sword-point, directed at

my neck, rang on my breast-plate.

"You shall not live to see the end of this, monsieur!" I replied,

infuriated at his premature glee.

And, having given ground a little, I made so quick an onslaught that, in

saving himself, he fell back against a chair, which overturned and took

him to the floor with it.

"Help, monsieur!" he cried to La Chatre, raising his dagger just in time

to ward off my sword.

The governor now perceived the sword that stood by the fireplace, took it

up, and thrust at me. Mademoiselle, who, in her distress at the sight of

the troops, had run to the _prie-dieu_ and fallen on her knees, saw La

Chatre's movement, and, rushing forward, caught the sword with both hands

as he thrust. I expected to see her fingers torn by the blade, but it

happened that the sword was still in its sheath, a fact which in our

excitement none of us had observed; so that when La Chatre tried to pull

the weapon from her grasp he merely drew it from the sheath, which

remained in her hands. By this time I was ready for the governor.

"Come on!" I cried. "It is a better match, two against me!"

And I sent La Chatre's sword flying from his hand, just in time to guard

against a dagger stroke from Montignac, who had now risen. Julie snatched

up the sword and held the governor at bay with it.

For some moments the distant clatter of galloping horses had been rapidly

increasing.

"Quick!" shouted La Chatre through the window to the approaching troops.

"To the rescue!"

And he stood wildly beckoning them on, but keeping his head turned

towards Montignac and me, who both fought with the greatest fury. For I

saw that I had found at last an antagonist requiring all my strength and

skill, one with whom the outcome was not at all certain.

The tumult of hoofs grew louder and nearer.

"Ernanton, fly while we can! The soldiers are coming!"

Mademoiselle threw La Chatre's sword to a far corner, ran to the door

leading from the stairway landing, closed it, and pushed home the bolt.

"They are at the gate! They are entering!" cried the governor, joyously.

"Another minute, Montignac!"

There was the rushing clank of hoofs on the drawbridge, then from the

courtyard rose a confused turbulence of horses, men, and arms.

Again my weapons clashed with Montignac's. Julie looked swiftly around.

Her eye alighted on the dagger that lay on one of the chairs. She drew it

from its sheath.

"If we die, it is together!" she cried, holding it aloft.

There came a deadened, thumping sound, growing swiftly to great volume.

It was that of men rushing up the stairs.

"To the rescue!" cried La Chatre. "But one more parry, Montignac!"

There was now a thunder of tramping in the hall outside the door.

"Ay, one more--the last!" It was I who spoke, and the speech was truth. I

leaped upon my enemy, between his dagger and his sword, and buried my

dagger in his neck. When I drew it out, he whirled around, clutched

wildly at the air, caught the curtain at the window, and fell, with the

quick, sharp cry:

"God have mercy on me!"

"Amen to that!" said I, wiping the blood from my dagger.

A terrible pounding shook the door, and from without came cries of

"Open." Mademoiselle ran to my side, her dagger ready for her breast. I

put my left arm around her.

"And now, God have mercy on _you_!" shouted La Chatre, triumphantly; for

the door flew from its place, and armed men surged into the chamber,

crowding the open doorway.

"Are we in time, my captain?" roared their leader, looking from the

governor to me.

And La Chatre tottered back to the fireplace, dumbfounded, for the leader

was Blaise and the men were my own.

Julie gave a glad little cry, and, dropping her dagger, sank to her knees

exhausted.

"Good-night, monsieur!" I said to La Chatre. "We thank you for your

hospitality!"

An Enemy to the King From the Recently Discovered Memoirs of the Sieur de la Tournoire · 第 17 / 18 章