You do not know whom you have to deal with.
Get me a boat, and let two of you row me across. Hinder me, and
your necks shall answer for it--or your backs!"
A laugh and an oath of derision formed the only response, and
before I could add more, the larger group arrived, and joined the
three.
"Who is it, Pierre?" asked one of these in a matter-of-fact way,
which showed I had not fallen amongst mere thieves.
The speaker seemed to be the leader of the band. He had a
feather in his bonnet, and I saw a steel corslet gleam under his
cloak, when some one held up a lanthorn to examine me the better.
His trunk-hose were striped with black, white, and green--the
livery as I learned afterwards of Monsieur the King's brother,
the Duke of Anjou, afterwards Henry the Third; then a close
friend of the Duke of Guise, and later his murderer. The captain
spoke with a foreign accent, and his complexion was dark to
swarthiness. His eyes sparkled and flashed like black beads. It
was easy to see that he was an Italian.
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