One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri QuatreJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri Quatre
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
France -- History -- Henry IV, 1589-1610 -- Fiction
Bursting into a loud laugh, Beatrice taunted him with his fright; and
putting up her dagger, hurried on, diverting the stranger's attention
by raillery, till at the corner of another street, Eugenie saw her
raise her two fingers in the moonlight, and the next moment a man
sprang out from a gateway on the dark side of the way; and running
forward as fast as possible, as if intending to pass them, he rushed
full against their undesired companion, and laid him prostrate in the
gutter in the middle of the street. Then taking the first word of
quarrel, he stopped and turned to abuse the fallen man for not getting
out of his way, while Beatrice and her companion hurried on, and were
soon at a distance from the scene of strife.
"Matthew managed that well!" exclaimed Beatrice, when she thought
herself at a sufficient distance to pause and take breath; "I must
promote that fellow to some better office for his skill."
"Then that was one of your own people?" said Eugenie, with her
confidence in the success of their endeavour somewhat strengthened by
every new proof of the foresight and precaution which her fair
companion had used to ensure support. "But what if the captain of the
quarter calls up the guard, and takes him into custody?"
"Captain of the quarter!" she exclaimed, with a laugh, "and did you
believe that? Do you not know that, in these times, every one assumes
what name he pleases? Captain of the quarter, indeed! Rather some
_filou_ or some _escroc_, who seeing two youths fresh from an idle
scrape, as he thought, fancied he could lay a tribute on their purse
as the price of his silence and departure."
Still hurrying on, Beatrice of Ferrara led the way through a number of
streets towards the gates of the city; but, warned by their late
adventure, she no longer proceeded at such a rapid pace. Assuming, on
the contrary, somewhat of a swagger in her air, yet still holding
Eugenie firm by the arm, she walked along, displaying no bad imitation
of the vastly important demeanour of some noble page, who, just
liberated from his mother's careful eye, overlays the inexperienced
timidity of youth with affected self-confidence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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