concealment to his cloth: He begged her to grant him a rendezvous
outside the town, in some deserted walk, where there would be no fear of
their being recognised or followed: the marquise hesitated no longer
than would serve to put a price on the favour she was granting, and the
rendezvous was fixed for the same evening.
The evening came: both waited with the same impatience, but with very
different hopes. The marquise found Desgrais at the appointed spot: he
gave her his arm then holding her hand in his own, he gave a sign, the
archers appeared, the lover threw off his mask, Desgrais was confessed,
and the marquise was his prisoner. Desgrais left her in the hands of his
men, and hastily made his way to the convent. Then, and not before, he
produced his order from the Sixty, by means of which he opened the
marquise’s room. Under her bed he found a box, which he seized and
sealed; then he went back to her, and gave the order to start.
When the marquise saw the box in the hands of Desgrais, she at first
appeared stunned; quickly recovering, she claimed a paper inside it
which contained her confession. Desgrais refused, and as he turned round
for the carriage to come forward, she tried to choke herself by
swallowing a pin. One of the archers, called Claude, Rolla, perceiving
her intention, contrived to get the pin out of her mouth. After this,
Desgrais commanded that she should be doubly watched.
They stopped for supper. An archer called Antoine Barbier was present at
the meal, and watched so that no knife or fork should be put on the
table, or any instrument with which she could wound or kill herself. The
marquise, as she put her glass to her mouth as though to drink, broke a
little bit off with her teeth; but the archer saw it in time, and forced
her to put it out on her plate. Then she promised him, if he would save
her, that she would make his fortune. He asked what he would have to do
for that. She proposed that he should cut Desgrais’ throat; but he
refused, saying that he was at her service in any other way. So she
asked him for pen and paper, and wrote this letter:
“DEAR THERIA,—I am in the hands of Desgrais, who is taking me by road
from Liege to Paris. Come quickly and save me.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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