'
I caught hold of her rein and turned her horse, and she suffered
it without demur; and in a moment we were pacing side by side,
with the long straight road before us. At the end where it
topped the hill, I could see the finger-post, two faint black
lines against the sky. When we reached that--involuntarily I
checked my horse and made it move more slowly.
'Well, sir?' she said impatiently. And her figure shook as with
cold.
'It is a tale I desire to tell you, Mademoiselle,' I answered.
'Perhaps I may seem to begin a long way off, but before I end I
promise to interest you. Two months ago there was living in
Paris a man--perhaps a bad man--at any rate, by common report a
hard man; a man with a peculiar reputation.'
She turned on me suddenly, her eyes gleaming through her mask.
'Oh, Monsieur, spare me this!' she said, quietly scornful. 'I
will take it for granted.'
'Very well,' I replied steadfastly. 'Good or bad, he one day, in
defiance of the Cardinal's edict against duelling, fought with a
young Englishman behind St Jacques' Church. The Englishman had
influence, the person of whom I speak had none, and an
indifferent name; he was arrested, thrown into the Chatelet, cast
for death, left for days to face death.
Pages:
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287