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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"

The rage I had
suppressed when the Lieutenant bearded me earlier in the
afternoon, the passion with which Mademoiselle's distress had
filled my breast, on the instant found vent. I sprang through
the line of soldiers; and striking the man with the whip a buffet
between the shoulders, which hurled him breathless to the ground,
I turned on the leaders.
'You fiends!' I cried. 'Shame on you! The man is dumb! Dumb;
and if I had ten men with me, I would sweep you and your scum out
of the village with broomsticks. Lay on another lash,' I
continued recklessly, 'and I will see whether you or the Cardinal
be the stronger.'
The Lieutenant stared at me, his grey moustache bristling, his
eyes almost starting from his head. Some of the troopers laid
their hands on their swords, but no one moved, and only the
Captain spoke.
'MILLE DIABLES!' he swore. 'What is all this about? Are you
mad, sir?'
'Mad or sane!' I cried furiously. 'Lay on another lash, and you
shall repent it.'
For an instant there was a pause of astonishment. Then, to my
surprise, the Captain laughed--laughed loudly.


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