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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"The House of the Wolf; a romance"

But only
necessity and that chasm behind could have nerved us, I think, to
go through a process so painful. When I stood, at length on the
floor, I seemed to be one great abrasion from head to foot. And
before a lady, too!
But what a joy I felt, nevertheless. A fig for Bezers now. He
had called us boys; and we were boys. But he should yet find
that we could thwart him. It could be scarcely half-an-hour
after midnight; we might still be in time. I stretched myself
and trod the level door jubilantly, and then noticed, while doing
so, that our hostess had retreated to the door and was eyeing us
timidly--half-scared.
I advanced to her with my lowest bow--sadly missing my sword.
"Madame," I said, "I am M. Anne de Caylus, and these are my
brothers. And we are at your service."
"And I," she replied, smiling faintly--I do not know why--"am
Madame de Pavannes, I gratefully accept your offers of service."
"De Pavannes?" I exclaimed, amazed and overjoyed. Madame de
Pavannes! Why, she must be Louis' kinswoman! No doubt she could
tell us where he was lodged, and so rid our task of half its
difficulty.


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