A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 184: what you’re looking at

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

180 A GENTLEMAN FROM GASCONY, “What fine?” asked Mirza, who had been gazing up at the window indicated by Griffo and fancied that she saw a white face there reflected in the moonlight. “ A kiss,” replied Griffo, with what he flattered him- self was a killing smile and one well calculated to win the good graces of the rustic beauty. But as he laid his arquebuse aside, leaning it against the parapet, and advanced a step to claim the penalty, the seeming country maiden sprang back with a coy- ness that only served to inflame the soldier’s desire. “Nay, nay,” she said, “the fines are too heavy. Be- sides, I know the regulations, All fines are to be paid to the officer in command, and not to the sentinel. But,” with a merry laugh, “I’ve a flask of wine in my basket, a gift from the sacristan of Saint Bernardine’s. Taste it.” As she spoke, she pointed to the basket which lay just under the parapet. At this, Griffo, whose thirst for good liquor was only second to the redoubtable sergeant’s himself, was quite _ consoled for the loss of the expected kiss, which, how- ever, he promised himself should only be momentary. “T will,” he said, with eager assent. “In default of the lips of a woman, commend me to the mouth of a bottle.” As he stooped to take the flask, quick as lightning Mirza drew a small packet from the bosom of her bod- ice, and, sending it with unerring aim, flung it through the iron bars of the tower window. It flew past Raoul, narrowly escaping his head, and fell with a rattle on the stone floor of the cell. Roused thus suddenly from his sad revery, the chev- alier jumped from the stool to see what was the missile that had been hurled thus unceremoniously at him. Gomicbooks (E(0) as y , be *. ~ . N