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Updated: June 8, 2025
The Anglo-Breton D'Ardaine had fallen before Beaumanoir's sword, but not before he had cut deeply into his enemy's shoulder. Sir Thomas Walton, Richard of Ireland one of the Squires, and Hulbitee the big peasant had all fallen before the mace of the dwarf Raguenel or the swords of his companions.
A panel shivered into splinters and the muzzles of two revolvers frowned through the aperture. "Wait!" bellowed Poluski; for Beaumanoir's hand was raised. Lord Adalbert did more than wait. With the quickness born of many a hard won victory on the polo ground, his free left hand flew out and grasped the wrist behind one of the pistols. He pulled fiercely and irresistibly.
Felix, crouching behind Beaumanoir, assured himself that the King and his chosen lady were momentarily deaf to all else than the one supreme fact that each loved the other. He sighed, and touched the stalwart Beaumanoir's shoulder, which he was just able to reach with uplifted hand. "Drop on your knees," he said. "I want to tell you something."
"Well, settle it among yourselves," said Alec dryly. "Now I must be off." Without another word he passed from the room that had witnessed his triumph and his fall. Yet his face was remarkably cheerful when he asked an attendant if Lord Adalbert Beaumanoir's whereabouts was known.
In Beaumanoir's expression one read only gallantry and frankness; in Montaubon's there was gallantry also, but it was mixed with the cruelty and cunning of the wolf. They bowed as they entered, and the little English seneschal advanced with outstretched hand to meet them. "Welcome, Robert, so long as you are beneath this roof," said he.
But all was vain! Beaumanoir's head reeled. His senses were leaving him.
Captain Drakovitch, anxious to atone for his prying of the previous day, brought circumstantial details to his Majesty Alexis III., who was breakfasting with Nesimir, Stampoff, and Ministers of State. There could be no doubting Beaumanoir's identity, since his baggage was on the train, and Drakovitch had made sure of his facts before hurrying to the President's house.
Never servile to the great, never arrogant to the little; so little over-refined that it was never vulgar, a popular bearing. The room in which these gentlemen were seated was separated from the general suite of apartments by a lobby off the landing-place, and served for Lady Beaumanoir's boudoir. Very pretty it was, but simply furnished, with chintz draperies.
Stampoff, who had been following the vanishing figure of Beaumanoir's emissary with suspicious eyes, turned and looked at the newcomer. "Oh, that is Bosko," he said, "my servant yours, too, for that matter. You can trust Bosko with your life. Can't he, you dog?" "Oui, m'sieur!" said Bosko.
Never servile to the great, never arrogant to the little; so little over-refined that it was never vulgar, a popular bearing. The room in which these gentlemen were seated was separated from the general suite of apartments by a lobby off the landing-place, and served for Lady Beaumanoir's boudoir. Very pretty it was, but simply furnished, with chintz draperies.
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