“Very well. Perhaps he has made up his mind to stay. If so, we shall
make a horrible scene, cry treachery and perjury, and trounce your
nephew well. Let’s settle our score and be off.”
They left the wine-shop, both rather the worse for the wine they had so
largely indulged in. They felt the need of the cool night air, so
instead of going down the rue Pavee they resolved to follow the rue
Saint-Andre-des-Arts as far as the Pont Saint-Michel, so as to reach the
mansion by a longer route.
At the very moment the commander got up to leave the tavern the
chevalier had run out of the mansion at the top of his speed. It was not
that he had entirely lost his courage, for had he found it impossible to
avoid his assailant it is probable that he would have regained the
audacity which had led him to draw his sword. But he was a novice in the
use of arms, had not reached full physical development, and felt that
the chances were so much against him that he would only have faced the
encounter if there were no possible way of escape. On leaving the house
he had turned quickly into the rue Git-le-Coeur; but on hearing the door
close behind his pursuer he disappeared down the narrow and crooked rue
de l’Hirondelle, hoping to throw the Duc de Vitry off the scent. The
duke, however, though for a moment in doubt, was guided by the sound of
the flying footsteps. The chevalier, still trying to send him off on a
false trail, turned to the right, and so regained the upper end of the
rue Saint-Andre, and ran along it as far as the church, the site of
which is occupied by the square of the same name to-day. Here he thought
he would be safe, for, as the church was being restored and enlarged,
heaps of stone stood all round the old pile. He glided in among these,
and twice heard Vitry searching quite close to him, and each time stood
on guard expecting an onslaught. This marching and counter-marching
lasted for some minutes; the chevalier began to hope he had escaped the
danger, and eagerly waited for the moment when the moon which had broken
through the clouds should again withdraw behind them, in order to steal
into some of the adjacent streets under cover of the darkness. Suddenly
a shadow rose before him and a threatening voice cried—
“Have I caught you at last, you coward?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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