Then he got to his feet slowly, opened the door, and quietly
calling Perrot, whispered to him. Perrot threw up his hands in surprise,
and hurried away.
Then Iberville shut the door, and came back. Neither man had made any
show of caring for their wounds. Still silent, Iberville drew forth
linen and laid it upon the table. Then he went to the window, and as he
looked through the parted curtains out upon the water--the room hung over
the edge of the cliff-he bound his own shoulder. Gering had lost blood,
but weak as he was he carried himself well. For full half an hour
Iberville stood motionless while the wife bound her husband's wounds.
At length the door opened and Perrot entered. Iberville did not hear him
at first, and Perrot came over to him. "All is ready, monsieur," he
said.
Iberville, nodding, came to the table where stood the husband and wife,
and Perrot left the room. He picked up a sword and laid it beside
Gering, then waved his hand towards the door.
"You are free to go, monsieur," he said. "You will have escort to your
country. Go now--pray, go quickly."
He feared he might suddenly repent of his action, and going to the door,
he held it open for them to pass.
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