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Updated: June 11, 2025
He leaned back now, his arms folded upon his chest, his eyes gloating upon the abject misery of the woman who had wronged him. "Where are you taking me?" she asked at last. "To Portillac, my little wifie." "And why there? What would you do to me?" "I would silence that little lying tongue forever. It shall deceive no more men." "You would murder me?" "If you call it that."
So they whirled through the night behind the clattering horses, the husband and the wife, saying nothing, but with hatred and fear raging in their hearts, until a brazier fire shone down upon them from the angle of a keep, and the shadow of the huge pile loomed vaguely up in front of them in the darkness. It was the Castle of Portillac.
He entered now, and stood with the quiet ease of a man who is used to such scenes, his hand raised in a salute. "What news, captain?" "Major de Brissac bade me tell you, sire, that he held the Castle of Portillac, that the lady is safe, and that her husband is a prisoner." Louis and his wife exchanged a quick glance of relief. "That is well," said he.
There is the castle of the Marquis de Montespan at Portillac." "Of my husband!" "Precisely." "Of my most bitter enemy! Oh, Charles, you are not serious." "On the contrary, I was never more so. The marquis was away in Paris yesterday, and has not yet returned. Where is the ring with his arms?" She hunted among her jewels and picked out a gold ring with a broad engraved face. "This will be our key.
"Rest assured that I would have done so had I not an excellent reason." "Why, then?" "I will tell you. At Portillac I have the right of the high justice, the middle, and the low. I am seigneur there, and can try, condemn, and execute. It is my lawful privilege.
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