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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"


'Well, NOM DE DIEU! make it up,' the Captain replied, with an
ugly sneer. He took a swaggering step this way and that, playing
his weapon. 'I am afraid, Lieutenant, that there will be no
sport to-day,' he continued in a loud aside. 'Our cock has but a
chicken heart.'
'Well, I said coolly,'I do not know what to do. Certainly it is
a fine day, and a fair piece of ground. And the sun stands well.
But I have not much to gain by killing you, M. le Capitaine, and
it might get me into an awkward fix. On the other hand, it would
not hurt me to let you go.'
'Indeed!' he said contemptuously, looking at me as I should look
at a lackey.
'No!' I replied. 'For if you were to say that you had struck
Gil de Berault and left the ground with a whole skin, no one
would believe you.'
'Gil de Berault!' he exclaimed frowning.
'Yes, Monsieur,' I replied suavely. 'At your service. You did
not know my name?'
'I thought that your name was De Barthe,' he said. His voice
sounded queerly; and he waited for the answer with parted lips,
and a shadow in his eyes which I had seen in men's eyes before.


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