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Updated: June 17, 2025
This is the last game I play, and it is not checkmate yet. Where have they taken Orrain?" "The Châtelet." "And mademoiselle?" "I know not. I know not if she is alive or dead." Le Brusquet groaned. "That is the worst tale of all. Orrain, I think, we can save." "How so?" For answer Le Brusquet held up my ring. "With this talisman!"
Somewhat apart from the gay groups that crowded together in the centre of the Terrace was a solitary figure standing near the pedestal of a bronze satyr, cast for the late King by Messer Benvenuto the Florentine. It was mademoiselle herself, and with a word to Le Brusquet I left him and walked straight up to her. "I was wondering to myself if I should see you here," she said as she greeted me.
"Hearken not unto him!" said Le Brusquet; "he is for ever looking out for recruits for his guard. Blaise de Lorgnac is as insatiable a stirrer of the porridge of the times as I; only I use a longer ladle, as beseems a person of my wisdom. As for you, mon ami Blaise, you throw your lures in vain! Know you that Monsieur Broussel is a philosopher, who has found contentment in fifty écus a year, did you not say, monsieur?" And, reaching for his lute, he ran his fingers over the strings and began to sing: "Mes amis, la terre est
With an oath De Ganache pushed past Le Brusquet and hurried across the lawn, leaving us staring after him. "He had his warning," said Le Brusquet. "I heard every word, and thought it was time to step in ere he drew his poniard. The man is mad! But what is this?" And stepping towards the seat he picked up the small packet of letters that De Ganache was reading.
My first thought had been, much as I disliked him, to ask Camus to help me in dressing the wound; but upon consideration, and chiefly, after I had heard Le Brusquet address his friend as "Monseigneur," I deemed it preferable that I should see to it myself. I had some experience in these things.
All that I know is that I stumbled over someone who had fallen, and as I rose to my feet I caught a glimpse of De Mouchy flying up the stair, Le Brusquet at his heels, and realised at the same instant that Simon was on me, death in his eyes. Nothing could have saved me then, but that a stronger hand than that of man was stretched forth to claim its own vengeance.
He was quite young, not more than four or five and twenty, but, young as he was, Monsieur de Brantôme had already acquired the reputation of being an inveterate gossip, and was feared more than the plague. I had but a passing acquaintance, two days' old, with him, but he seized Le Brusquet. "Eh bien, Le Brusquet!
There is yet one other whom I could name, one who is ever at my side, and who for good or for ill has taken me as part of her life; but for the present the names I have cited are sufficient, and I shall say no more on the subject. On returning to my apartment after leaving Vendôme and Le Brusquet I found old Camus at the door awaiting me.
When he had done Le Brusquet said nothing, but remained in a moody silence, staring in front of him, and De Lorgnac turned from him to the window and looked out upon the night. After a little he turned again, and putting his hand on Le Brusquet's shoulder, said: "It looks, old friend, as if we were beaten." Le Brusquet's eyes flashed. "Not yet!
"Remember there are two days yet; and God's arm is long." Mechanically I drank, and as I held the glass in my hand Le Brusquet removed his cloak. In doing this something dropped, and stooping he picked it up. It was a packet of letters, tied with a red ribbon.
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