France -- History -- Louis XVI, 1774-1793 -- Fiction
Those who accompanied her--a rough rabble from field and forest--gazed,
not without surprise, or uncouth admiration, at one whose name and fame
were well-known on that northern coast; but these evidences of rough
approval were not shared by the alien rogues. On my lady's finger the
gem still sparkled: held their eyes like a lure. Black Seigneur, or
not, they muttered sullenly, what knew they of her he had with him;
whose hand was not that of cinder-wench or scullery maid? Let them
look at her face! She might be a great lady--she might even be the
Governor's daughter herself!
"The Governor's daughter!" All, alike, caught at the word.
"An if she were!" fiercely the Black Seigneur confronted them.
While, hesitating, they sought for a reply, quickly he went on. Who
had a better right to her? The Black Seigneur! The Lady Elise!
Harshly he laughed. Was it not fair spoil? His Excellency's enemy;
his Excellency's daughter. Did they think treasure sweeter than
revenge? Let them try to rob him of it! As for the ring?
Contemptuously he took it from my lady's hand; threw it among them.
A few scrambled, others were still for finishing the tragedy then. The
people _versus_ the lords and their spawn. "Kill at once!" the
injunction had gone forth from Paris.
As he spoke, one of the fiercest put out his hand; touched my lady,
when the fingers of the Black Seigneur gripped hard his throat; hurled
him so violently back, he lay still. Companions sprang to his aid;
certain of the peasants interfered.
"Let him alone!"
"He speaks fair!"
"Bah! To-night are all equal."
"Your Black Seigneur no better than others!"
"You lie!" In a high tone the woman with the great lady's hat broke
in. "At them, my chickens! Beat well these Paris rogues, who come
only for the picking!"
"Yes; beat them well!"
But the runagates of the great city were not of a kind to submit
lightly; curses and blows were exchanged; knives gleamed and swords
flashed. Amid a scene of confusion, the cause of it stayed not to
witness the outcome; running down the sloping way, soon found himself
on the sands; then keeping to the shadows, passed around the corner of
the wall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account