Argosy, Vol. 1 (December 9, 1882) — page 220: what you’re looking at

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

‘THE QUEEN’S BODY GUARD. : 213 the ground. A fierce scuffle, and the American had the other on his back, his knees grinding into the Frenchman’s chest, one hand at his throat, and the other pointing a revolver at his temple. “Move and you are a dead man,” said Cottrell, as calmly as his panting lungs would allow. The count’s hands went up over his head in token of his surrender. The girl Anne still lay sobbing and moaning upon the sand. “Now, my dear count,” continued Henry, gazing upon the lieutenant’s prostrate form, “ you will remember asking me if I would serve you or serve time. You will also remember that my answer was that I preferred to remain at large. I now add that I also defy you, Count Rignault, and beg to point out that you are now in my power. Your little interview with Mademoiselle Anne I overheard, and your villainous conduct would cause you to be drummed out of the army and be disgraced for life if it became known.” The count’s eyes glowed like living coals in the semi darkness, but he re- mained silent, for what could he say? “ Monsieur,” said Anne, suddenly sitting up, “ 1 hear some one coming.” “It is I, Jean Daron,” interposed a voice, and the fat figure and impassive face of the little Frenchman appeared. ‘Ah, Daron, I’m glad you have come,” said Cottrell, without taking his _ eyes off his prisoner. “ As I pounced upon my friend, here, I heard something in the long grass behind me, on top of the sand dune. I wish you would reconnoiter. It would be awkward if the count had any allies about.” “ It was I back of you,” replied Jean calmly. “You! What were you doing up there? ” “T was tracking you—I meant to kill you,” was the astounding reply, de- livered as though it were the most natural assertion in the world. “ Jean Daron, what do you mean? ” ‘I overheard this morning your acceptance of the count’s proposal to serve him. I thought you were a traitor to the countess, so [ determined to rid her of you. I see now you were only playing a part. I am glad I did not succeed in my attempt.” Cottrell shuddered at his narrow escape. Yet he could not but admire the dog-like devotion to his mistress of this inscrutable little man. He seemed animated by only one emotion, namely, that he must defend her at all hazards. He was a strange combination of shrewdness and simplicity. When occa- sion demanded it, he was a consummate actor, his expressionless face being but a mask to hide his true cunning; when it came time for action he was as relentless as a wild animal that follows its unerring instinct. “As long as he lives,” thought the American, “ the countess will not be quite defenseless.” “ There is no danger of an attack,” observed Jean. “I have looked care- fully around.” . “T think that is likely,” rejoined Cottrell. “ Monsieur le comte’s errand was of such a nature that he would not care for witnesses, even of his own party; and now, Jean, please assist Mademoiselle Anne to the chateau; she is much exhausted by what she has been through.” . ecomiclooolks ceo