With my blade I severed
the cord, whereupon she plucked the gag from her mouth, and sank against my
side, her struggles having left her weak indeed.
As I set my arm about her waist to support her, my heart seemed to swell
within me, and strange melodies shaped themselves within my soul.
St. Auban bore down upon me with a raucous oath, but the glittering point
of my rapier danced before his eyes and drove him back again.
"To me, Vilmorin, you cowardly cur!" he shouted. "To me, you dogs!"
He let fly at them a volley of blood-curdling oaths, then, without waiting
to see if they obeyed him, he came at me again, and our swords met.
"Courage, Mademoiselle," I whispered, as a sigh that was almost a groan
escaped her. "Have no fear."
But that fight was not destined to be fought, for, as again we engaged,
there came the fall of running feet behind me. It flashed across my mind
that Michelot had been worsted, and that my back was about to be assailed.
But in St. Auban's face I saw, as in a mirror, that he who came was
Michelot.
"Mort de Christ!" snarled the Marquis, springing back beyond my reach.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162