A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

158 A GENTLEMAN FROM GASCONY. And he pointed at Raoul, who, not three paces away, had paused in alarm and surprise. “The monk!” said one of the soldiers. “ Your wits are in the wine-pot, sergeant!” “The monk is no monk!” shrieked Goujon, striking the proclamation with his fist. “It is Raoul de Puyca. dére, the Huguenot! Five hundred crowns! It is ! who have captured him! Bring him along with you, alive or dead!” Raoul saw that further dissimulation was useless. “Tt shall be dead, then!” he cried, flinging off the monk’s frock and dashing it to the ground. At the same time, he drew the dagger from his belt. His sword he had unfortunately left in Simon Beppa’s care. The soldiers made a eau forward, but, as they did so, one of the gypsies raised a whistle to his lips and blew a shrill note. Instantly it was answered by a burst of music, and a large band of Bohemians and beggars swept down between the soldiers and their would-be victim. They waved their batons and clashed their tambourines in the faces of Goujon and his com- panions, who were endeavoring to penetrate the mov- ing hedge. Raoul saw his opportunity and turned to fly, only to come face to face with Count Lemours. The latter recognized the Huguenot at once and flung himself upon him. Before Raoul could extricate himself from the un- expected grasp, the soldiers had broken through the ranks of the gypsies. In another moment the Huguenot, on whose head there was a price of five hundred crowns, was in the hands of the king’s guards. —— o (EO MMIELOCOS (E(@)