A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 167: what you’re looking at

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

“t EXACT THE PRICE OF BLOOD.” 163 He took care to tell no one of his intentions, least of all his boon companions, Griffo and Miron- ton. The mean wretches were too avaricious, he reflected, and would think no more of asking for shares than Goujon himself would of calling for a flask of wine. As we have seen, the water gate was open, and the sergeant found no difficulty in entering. As he advanced up the path, he caught sight of Mirza, who with petticoat thrown over her head was attempting to avoid his observation. “Stop! Stop!” hecried, hurrying forward as quickly as his bulky form would permit. “Stop a minute while one of the king’s officers sees what sort of a dove it is that flies in the darkness.” Mirza, fearing lest Mademoiselle de Vrissac should be discovered, chose the lesser of the evils and ad- vanced to meet the sergeant. ““Who are you?” asked the latter. “A servant of the house of Bassompierre,” replied Mirza, with averted head. “Good. So am I at present, its most obedient hum- ble servant. That should make a sympathy between us. By your voice, you are young, and I dare swear not ugly. Why so coy?” And he laid his hand upon her shoulder. But, quick as a flash, Mirza threw off his grasp, and turned and faced him. As Goujon recognized her, he started back. He had already had one experience with her sharp nails, and had no desire to repeat it. “The devil,” he muttered, “or the Bohemian! It’s the same thing.” “Do not stay me, sergeant, let me pass,” said Mirza, EOmMmIehdoo S (S(@)