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Updated: June 5, 2025
He was strong and quick, and Fortunio was by his side. A man was surely dead by now at La Rochette; but that man could not be Marius. At last, in the distance, she espied a moving object, and down on the silent air of eventide came the far-off rattle of a horse's hoofs. Some one was riding, galloping that way. He was returned at last.
Tenacious as a leech, madame; and like a leech come hither to do a little work of purification." Her eyes, now kindling again as she recovered from her recent fears, sought Fortunio's shifty glance. Garnache followed it and read what was in her mind. "What Fortunio has done," said he, "he has done by your son's authority and sanction."
"Fortunio here," said he, and he half turned and let his hand fall on the captain's shoulder, "is my very good friend. I have no secrets from him." The instant lift of Florimond's eyebrows was full of insolent, supercilious disdain. Yet Marius did not fasten his quarrel upon that.
"You are quite sure that he is drowned?" Fortunio replied by giving his reasons for that conclusion, and they convinced both the Marquise and her son indeed they had never deemed it possible that the Parisian could have survived that awful leap. The Dowager looked at Marius, and from him to the captain. "Do you think, you two, that you will be fit for tomorrow's business?"
Never was there a man with a better stomach for a fight than Martin de Garnache, nor did he stop to consider that here his appetite in that direction was likely to be indulged to a surfeit. The sight of those three men opposing him, swords drawn and Fortunio armed in addition with a dagger, drove from his mind every other thought, every other consideration but that of the impending battle.
His stories display much ingenuity, but are often improbable and cruel in their nature. To this, also, we are indebted for the legend of "Fair Star," "Puss in Boots," "Fortunio," and others which adorn our nursery libraries. Shakspeare and other English dramatists have drawn largely from his voluminous writings. His tales are founded upon history rather than fancy.
And the Dowager, who watched the conflict and who knew something of sword-play, realized that, tired though Garnache might be, unless help came soon or some strange chance gave the captain the advantage, Fortunio would be laid low with the others.
If you would still win Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye, you shall win her from me at point of sword. Fortunio, see to the door." "Wait, Marius!" cried Florimond, and he looked genuinely aghast. "Do not forget that we are brothers, men of the same blood; that my father was your father." "I choose to remember rather that we are rivals," answered Marius, and he drew his rapier.
"I am well," answered Marius sullenly. His defeat that evening had left him glum and morose. He felt that he had cut a sorry figure in the affair, and his vanity was wounded. "I deplore I had so little share in the fight," he muttered. "The lustiest fight ever I or any man beheld," swore Fortunio. "Dieu! But he was a fighter, that Monsieur de Garnache, and he deserved a better end than drowning."
"Excellent," murmured Marius from the background. "It is such an enterprise as should please a ready swordsman of your calibre, Fortunio." "A duel?" quoth the fellow, and his insolence went out of him, thrust out by sheer dismay; his mouth fell open. A duel was another affair altogether. "But, Sangdieu! what if he should slay me? Have you thought of that?"
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