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"No, monsieur," said Raoul, almost choked with emotion. "Besides, Raoul, as you are a good Christian, and I am one also, we ought to reckon upon a more special protection of God and His guardian angels. Promise me that if anything evil should happen to you, on any occasion, you will think of me at once." "First and at once! Oh! yes, monsieur." "And will call upon me?" "Instantly."
He had, at first, indicated by an undulating movement of his hand, that his master and he had crossed the sea. "Upon some expedition?" Raoul had asked. Grimaud by bending down his head had answered, "Yes." "When monsieur le comte incurred much danger?" asked Raoul. "Neither too much nor too little," was replied by a shrug of the shoulders. "But still, what sort of danger?" insisted Raoul.
"Much need she has for some one to support her," said Gillian; "and so have I for that matter, for what can poor old rusty Raoul do?" "But as to your young lady's marriage?" said the merchant.
In this fashion young Raoul Chamblard talked while comfortably settled back in a large red velvet arm-chair. This happened on the 26th of March, 1892, in one of the parlor-cars of the express to Marseilles, which had left Paris at 8.50 that morning. It was now five minutes past nine. The train with much racket was crossing the bridge of Charentin.
Olivain appeared, took his sword and cloak from his hands; Raoul himself opened the door which, from the ante-chamber, led into a small salon, richly furnished enough for the salon of a young man, and completely filled with flowers by Olivain, who, knowing his master's tastes, had shown himself studiously attentive in gratifying them, without caring whether his master perceived his attention or not.
Raoul became as pale as death; his eyes flashed lightning, causing De Wardes involuntarily to fall back. Buckingham, also, who had perceived their expression, threw himself between the two adversaries, whom he had expected to see precipitate themselves on each other. De Wardes had reserved this injury for the last; he clasped his sword firmly in his hand, and awaited the encounter.
I am a kind of Don Juan, you know! And, drawing himself up to his full height, with his hand on his hip, wagging the hideous thing that was his head on his shoulders, he roared, 'Look at me! I AM DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT! And, when I turned away my head and begged for mercy, he drew it to him, brutally, twisting his dead fingers into my hair." "Enough! Enough!" cried Raoul. "I will kill him.
This look was a timid entreaty, and implored secrecy far more effectually than her expressed words had done a few minutes before. Raoul rouse, and went to the door, which he opened. "Olivain," he said, "I am not within for any one." And then, turning towards Louise, he added, "Is not that what you wished?"
Early for such repast, but l'appetit vient en mangeant. Mind the coffee is hot." Enguerrand, always careful of each detail of dress, was especially so that morning, and especially gay, humming the old air, "Partant pour la Syrie." But his gaiety was checked when Raoul, taking from his breast a holy talisman, which he habitually wore there, suspended it with loving hands round his brother's neck.
And who is this gentleman, who has thus slain one who had no mean reputation as a swordsman?" "A young gentleman passing through Agen. The quarrel arose through a rencontre in the street. Count Raoul was, as was his nature, hasty, and put himself in the wrong. The gentleman resented his language, and a meeting was at once arranged.
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