Richelieu: A Tale of France, v. 3/3James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
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Richelieu: A Tale of France, v. 3/3
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Richelieu, Armand Jean du Plessis, duc de, 1585-1642 -- Fiction
The thunder of Louise's ire, now increased in a seven-fold degree, was
turned instantly upon her dearly-beloved husband. Her eyes flashed, and
her cheek flamed, and approaching him, where he sat laughing at the
whole business, she demanded that he should exculpate himself from this
charge of pentigamy, with a tone and manner that made the Norman, who
had drunk quite enough, laugh still more. With an unheard-of exertion of
self-command, Louise kept her fingers from his face; but she burst forth
into reproaches so bitter and stinging, that Marteville's mirth was soon
converted into rage, and he looked at her with a glance which would
quickly have taught those who knew him well not to urge him farther. But
Louise went on, and wound up by declaring, that she would live with him
no longer--that she would quit him that very moment, and finding her way
to Monsieur Chavigni, would tell him all--adding, that she would soon
send the Guard to ferret out that nest of ruffians, and that she hoped
to see him hanging at the head of them. With this expression of her
intentions, Louise darted out of the vault; but the Norman, who,
speechless with rage, had sat listening to her with his teeth clenched,
and his nether lip quivering with suppressed passion, started suddenly
up, cast the settle from him with such force that it was dashed to
pieces against the wall, and strode after her with the awful cloud of
determined wrath settled upon his brow.
The mirth of the robbers, who knew the ungovernable nature of their
companion's passions, was now over, and each looked in the face of the
other with silent expectation. After a space, there was the murmur of
angry voices heard for a moment at the farther end of the passage; then
a loud piercing shriek rang through the vault; and then all was silence.
A momentary sensation of horror ran through the bosoms of even the
ferocious men whose habits rendered them familiar with almost every
species of bloodshed. But this was new and strange amongst them, and
they waited the return of the Norman with feelings near akin to awe.
At length, after some time, he came, with a firm step and unblenching
brow, but with a haggard wildness in his eye which seemed to tell that
remorse was busy with his heart. However, he sat him down without any
allusion to the past, and draining off a cup of wine, strove laboriously
after merriment. But it was in vain; the mirth of the whole party was
evidently forced; and Marteville soon took up another strain, which
accorded better with the feelings of the moment. He spoke to them of the
dispersion of the band, which had taken place since he left them;
announced his intention of joining them again; and drawing forth a
purse containing about a thousand livres, he poured them forth upon the
table, declaring them to be his first offering to the treasury.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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