D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 145: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

134 © The Phantom Bell. cuardsman was at hand, “I have the favor to present to you, and to the Lady of Floriador, the Chevalier-Lord of the Vallon, of Bracieux and of Pierrefonds, the special messenger of the King Louis XIII., and of his first min- ister, who begs to proffer ‘his respects and his sword to your grace. ‘The sea, in its impartial severity, has taken the color out of ‘this vest, but not out of his blood, ‘the bluest’ in France, or his temper and spirit, the highest, or his blade, the best there!” Porthos made a becoming, stately bow and theld out the ‘handle of his sword in its sheath toward the Duchess of Braganza. She tendered her hand to be kissed, and she was not without feeling a thrill as it rested for a moment on the huge back-hand of Porthos, while his mustache brushed it. Madame du Vallon would have been jealous if she had seen the proud Gonzago’s pleas- ure at the ponderous knight’s offering. D’Artagnan, rapping his own rapier hilt, turned to- ward ther attendant, amplying that he personally dedi- cated it to her service. She bit her lip, but a smile of pleasure illumined her averted face. “I do not believe she is a doit offended,” thought the Gascon. It was by this time darkness complete. There was no twilight in this latitude. The Frenchman sighed. “A plaguey, breakneck journey lies before me,’ grum- bled the, meaning to be heard. “To chase a Jewish Frier Rush, without his lantern lit, over a seacliff sham of a road, in a pitch-black night. If he but had the treasure in ingots, I might trust to catch up with him.” “M. du Vallon will be our guard,” said the duchess, evidently haughtily unconcerned about one persoms safety more or less, and surely not intending to detain the adventurer from a service of such possible gain to her coffers. Over a million for their military chest, at the price of a stranger’ s barking his shins. “Hark!” interposed ‘her maid-of-honor, looking off | seaward. “What did I hear?” “A bell!” said the duchess, negligently. “It’s a bell,’ coincided Porthos, with his back that Eomichooksicom