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Updated: June 1, 2025
You seem, in fact, to have taken a greater interest in Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye's enlargement than the Queen could have a right to expect of you." And he smiled, a world of suggestion in his eyes. Garnache sat back in his chair and stared at the man. "This levity, monsieur, on such a subject, leaves me thunderstruck," he said at last. "Diable!" laughed the other.
Swift and quietly as a mouse she glided from the room and softly closed the door of her chamber and turned the key in a lock, which Garnache had had the foresight to keep well oiled. He breathed more freely when it was done. A step sounded in the guard-room.
Uneasy in his mind, seeking some way to tell the thing and acquit himself of the painful task before him, Garnache took a turn in the apartment. Mademoiselle leaned against the table, which was still burdened by the empty coffin, and observed him. His ponderings were vain; he could find no way to tell, his story.
Light gleamed on the staircase, and breathless voices were wafted up to the two men. Garnache bethought him that his last hour was assuredly at hand. Well, if he must take his death, he might as well take it here upon Marius's sword as upon another's. So he would risk it for the sake of leaving upon Marius some token by which he might remember him.
And followed, as before, by the eyes of the stranger and his companions, Garnache strode out of the room, and mounting the stairs went to find solace in talk with Valerie. But however impossible he might find it to digest the affront he had swallowed, no word of the matter did he utter to the girl, lest it should cause her fears to reawaken.
"Is there never to be an end to these preliminaries?" "But I cannot permit you to oppose yourself to a sword two inches longer than your own," cried Gaubert, almost in a temper. "Why not, if I am satisfied?" asked Garnache. "Mine is the longer reach; thus matters will stand equal." "Equal?" roared Gaubert.
And he stepped out into the rain, which had begun again a few minutes earlier, and was now falling in a steady downpour. Straight across the Palais Seneschal went Garnache. And sorely though his temper might already have been tried that day, tempestuously though it had been vented, there were fresh trials in store for him, fresh storms for Tressan.
He plied his cloak, untwisting it from his arm and flinging it over the head and body of one of his assailants, so that he was enmeshed and blinded by it. Leaping to the fellow's flank, Garnache, with a terrific kick, knocked his legs from under him so that he fell heavily. Then, stooping suddenly, the Parisian ran his blade under the other brave's guard and through the fellow's thigh.
"Surely not, sir," Courthon interrupted sweetly. "You forget that you rolled Monsieur Sanguinetti in the mud. That is hardly to have a quarrel forced upon you." Garnache bit his lip to the blood in his vexation. "However the quarrel may have originated," said Francois, with a great laugh, "I swear that it goes not forward until I am accommodated, too."
And then, raising his voice, his sword, engaging now his brother's: "Ola, Monsieur de Garnache!" he cried. "To me!"
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