Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

306 behind him. mentary. “Henri of Navarre is not yet the king of France,” he continued; “ but if he al- ways acts with the celerity which he has shown in this affair, I will not gainsay his chances, ‘‘ Nevertheless, it will be impossible for you to execute your commission, Captain Duhamel, for the very excellent reason that within half an hour Mile. de Lorme will have ceased to exist, and will have become Madame d’Orsang, who as such will ac- company me to Paris. Now, if monsieur will excuse me, we will proceed with the ceremony. Afterward we will endeavor to find refreshment for monsieur and his men.” He bowed to me with perfect aplomb. “ Thiebaud, see to your muskets,” he cautioned. M. d’Orsang was about to swing upon his heel, and I to order a charge in spite of his muskets, when the crescent of swords- men at the doorway was broken again. “ Hilaire! Hilaire!” In bridal white, with flowers in her shin- ing hair, my lady came running to the top of the steps, a small, palpitating, dancing figure, weeping and laughing at once, and holding out her arms toward me. M. d’Orsang stared. “ Hilaire! You have come for me! Praise be to God! Praise be to God!” At that cry my heart vibrated like a smitten drum. She saw then the menace of the guns, and she went down on her knees, clutching at the wondering viscount’s hand. “Ah, for the love of the good God in heaven, M. d’Orsang, do not bid them shoot him!” she implored. “ Let me go, M. d’Or- sang! Let me go with him! We will bless you all the days of our life!” M. the Viscount raised her; and I saw that the uncouth being could be both gentle and courteous. “Captain Duhamel shall come to no harm through me, my dear lady—so long as he is reasonable,” he said. ‘“‘ But do I understand that you ask to go with him? He comes from Henri of Navarre.” Serene cowered at mention of that name. His discomposure was mo- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. She looked down at me; and I think that she read my eyes. “But I will go with Hilaire anywhere,” she answered with proud _ trustfulness. “Forgive me, M. d’Orsang, for the un- maidenly trick I have played you! Tell me that you forgive me, and let me go!” raed Sy FS D’Orsang looked from her to me, bewil- dered. His fearful face had turned white, and he swayed as if a club had smitten him. “Mother of God! here is something which I understand not at all,”’ he muttered. He drew a hand across his brow. Aware of the curious glances of his guests and soldiers, he straightened upright. “Will monsieur do me the honor to come within?” he asked, beckoning to me. ** Be not mad, master!” hissed Mark in my ear. But Aunt Dorothée had named this vis- count an honest man, and my own observa- tion seconded her belief. I slipped from Fanchon’s saddle and passed through the line of men-at-arms. On the steps I felt a touch against my elbow. Mark had come with me. A parlor on the lower floor which looked out upon the side lawn had been decked for the wedding. Three priests stood by an altar under a bower of sweet smelling spring blossoms. Midway down the room was gathered a group of brightly gowned women, their faces pale and anxious. They started toward us; but the viscount waved them back, and led us to one of the ‘win- dows. Mark tarried by the hall door. “‘ Explain, I pray you,” said M. d’Orsang, “how it is that mademoiselle, having claimed the protection of my name to es- cape Henri of Navarre, now wishes to leave me and go to him. I do not understand.” There was a look in the man’s green eyes which made me pity him, and the pallor had left his face. It promised to be awk- ward, this explaining. I took the resolve to be honest with him. “JT am a captain in the king’s army, as I told you, monsieur,” said I; ‘ but I was not sent here by the king. This is my dear lady, and I have come to save her from the king.” “So it is not Henri of Navarre, but GEomichbooks (E@)