"First, M. de
Bezers, first," I broke out fiercely, my words leaping over one
another in my haste, "a word with you! Let me tell you what I
think of you! You are a treacherous hound, Vidame! A cur! a
beast! And I spit upon you! Traitor and assassin!" I shouted,
"is that not enough? Will nothing provoke you? If you call
yourself a gentleman, draw!"
He shook his head; he was still smiling, still unmoved. "I do
not do my own dirty work," he said quietly, "nor stint my footmen
of their sport, boy."
"Very well!" I retorted. And with the words I drew my sword,
and sprang as quick as lightning to the curtain by which he had
entered. "Very well, we will kill you first!" I cried
wrathfully, my eye on his eye, and every savage passion in my
breast aroused, "and take our chance with the lackeys afterwards!
Marie! Croisette!" I cried shrilly, "on him, lads!"
But they did not answer! They did not move or draw. For the
moment indeed the man was in my power. My wrist was raised, and
I had my point at his breast, I could have run him through by a
single thrust.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93