Adventure stories; France -- History -- Henry IV, 1589-1610 -- Fiction
'_Vertu de Dieu!_ Madame, but there are some things which have no
price! And there is no ransom you could name which would tempt Adam de
Gomeron to part with his prisoners--with _one_ of them at any rate.
You are no spy, I know: such eyes as yours were never made to count
the strength of battalions. As for your friend there, we have means to
make him tell us all about himself to-morrow; and you, _ma mignonne_,
must not bruise your tender feet by walking through the night to the
camp of Monsieur--the King of France. In a day or so, perhaps,' he
went on with a horrible smile, 'but not to-night. Come! and he stepped
up to her. Come, taste the d'Arbois--it is from your friends--and
learn to love the poor soldiers of the Holy League.'
Saying this he attempted to pass his arm round her waist, but slipping
from his grasp, and her cheeks aflame, Madame struck him across the
face with the back of her hand, such a stroke as the wing of an angry
dove might give.
The rest was done in a flash, and de Gomeron reeled back with bleeding
lips, staggered back to the very end of the room, where he would have
fallen but for the support of the wall. It was in me to follow up my
blow by passing my sword through the man, so mad was I in my fury; but
luckily for him Nicholas hung on my arm and saved the villain's life.
He righted himself at once, and passing his hand across his mouth,
spoke to me quite coolly and collectedly, but with livid features.
'We finish this outside, sir; follow me,' and picking up his rapier,
which lay on the table, where he had thrown it on the entrance of the
prisoners, de Gomeron stepped out of the door. In the excitement of
the moment the men poured after him, and I was the last to follow. It
came to me like lightning that the prisoners were unguarded, and
slipping my dagger from its sheath, I thrust its haft into Madame's
hand, and I saw that she understood from the thanks in her eyes. As I
went out I heard the voice of the Huguenot: 'They shall die as they
have lived--by the edge of the sword; and the Lord shall confound His
enemies.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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