A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

MADAME LA DUCHESSE DE BASSOMPIERRE, 145 ward to assist her, she recovered herself and waved him back. Here was no woman to weep and wail, but a grande dame from the crown of her snowy head to the tip of her dainty foot. The deepest emotion knows no voice to express itself. A Du Barri shrieks upon the scaffold, but a De Rohan dies mute. “How was he killed?” she asked in hollow tones, ad- dressing Lemours. ‘ By what base sleight of hand was | my boy’s life struck out?” “Madame, I must needs speak the truth,” returned Lemours, gravely. “The duke was killed in a fair duel.” “And the cause? What was the cause? Answer quickly, monsieur!” Lemours, with lowered eyes, was silent. “Enough, it will not bear the telling.” A terrible struggle was going on in the duchess’ breast. She had but to stretch out her hand, and the man who killed her son would be in the hands of jus- tice. Vengeance was knocking at her heart, but she dare not give it entrance. She had sworn that, what- ever betide, the man who claimed the asylum of her roof should go thence in safety. JVoblesse oblige! A Bassompierre keeps his word. “Count de Lemours,” she said slowly, “I thank you, but must entreat you to retire and take these men with you. This drunkard,” with a contemptuous movement of her hand toward Goujon, “this drunkard speaks out of the wine he has drunk. For—for ¢is time the as- sassin has escaped. Go, monsieur, go; I claim the sanctuary of sorrow.” As slowly and quietly as they had entered hurriedly and tumultuously, Lemours and his companions left the room. t-) Gomicboo S (©)