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Updated: June 1, 2025
"If this should be a trap." Garnache started. The remark sobered him, and brought to his mind his own suspicions of yesternight, which his present anger had for the moment lulled. Still, he conceived that he had gone too far to extricate himself. But he could at least see to it that he was not drawn away from the place that sheltered mademoiselle.
Four of them set upon us in the Champs aux Capuchins. As long as he lived, I stood beside him. But seeing him fallen, I come for help." "My God!" sobbed Rabecque, and loosed his grasp of Monsieur Gaubert's shoulder. "Who did it?" inquired Tressan, and his voice rumbled fiercely. "I know not who they were. The man who picked the quarrel with Monsieur de Garnache called himself Sanguinetti.
"Is this the watch you keep?" quoth Marius again, and Garnache, scanning the youth's face with foolishly smiling eyes, noted the flush on his cheek, the odd glitter in his handsome eyes, and even caught a whiff of wine upon his breath. Alarm grew in Garnache's mind, but his face maintained its foolish vacancy, its inane smile. He bowed again and, with a wave of the hands towards the inner chamber,
Yet he made a stubborn fight, and whilst they fenced and stamped about that room, Marius came to watch them, staggering to his mother's side and leaning heavily upon Tressan's shoulder. The Marquise turned to him, her face livid to the lips. "That man must be the very fiend," Garnache heard her tell her son. "Run for help, Tressan, or, God knows, he may escape us yet.
"By God!" he swore, "if I cannot have your love, I'll give you cause enough to hate me." "Already have you done that most thoroughly," said she. And Garnache cursed this pertness of hers which was serving to dare him on. The next moment there broke from her a startled cry. Marius had seized her again and was crushing her frail body in his arms.
Then, when the yielding, silent turf was under his feet, he gave not another thought for his numbness, but started to run as a man runs in a nightmare, so little did the speed of his movements match the pace of his desire to set a distance between himself and Condillac. It wanted something over an hour to midnight when Monsieur de Garnache started out in his sodden clothes to run from Condillac.
Garnache took the proffered chair, and sank down with creak and jingle to warm himself at the fire. "From what you have said, I gather that you are Monsieur Marius de Condillac," said he. "I, as you may have heard me announced by your servant, am Martin Marie Rigobert de Garnache at your service."
The captain cursed her horridly in a frenzy of fear, for he saw that did Garnache shake off the Marquise there would be an end of himself. He sought to wrench himself free of her detaining grasp, and the exertion brought him down, weary as he was, and with her weight hanging to him.
Her boy was lord of Condillac; Florimond, whom she had hated and who had stood in the way of her boy's advancement, was dead and on his way to burial; Garnache, the man from Paris who might have made trouble for them had he ridden home again with the tale of their resistance, was silenced for all time, and the carp in the moat would be feasting by now upon what was left of him; Valerie de La Vauvraye was in a dejected frame of mind that augured well for the success of the Dowager's plans concerning her, and by noon at latest there would be priests at Condillac, and, if Marius still wished to marry the obstinate baggage, there would be no difficulty as to that.
Sanguinetti stood apart, his manner haughty and impressive, his eye roaming scornfully through the ranks of what had by now become a crowd. Windows were opening in the street, and heads appearing, and across the way Garnache might have beheld the flabby face of Monsieur de Tressan among the spectators of that little scene. Rabecque drew near his master. "Have a care, monsieur," he implored him.
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