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Updated: June 18, 2025
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.
"I implore you to be careful," she insisted. "You may depend upon me," he said, and closed the door. Outside he called Rabecque, and together they went below. But mindful of her fears, he dispatched one of the troopers to stand sentry outside her door whilst he and his lackey supped.
Rabecque, his shoulders touching the timbers of the porch, against which he had been thrust, remained at gaze, following with resentful eye the fellow who had so rudely used him. Garnache, on the other side, watched with some wonder the advent of the ingenuous-looking stranger, but as yet with no suspicion of his intent.
"The Auberge de France has promised me a carriage in the morning. What shall it avail them at Condillac to keep us here to-night?" "They may have some project. Oh, monsieur! I am full of fears." "Dismiss them," he answered lightly; and to reassure her he added, smiling: "Rest assured we shall keep good watch over you, Rabecque and I and the troopers.
A word or two he exchanged with the sergeant, and then with a great rumble the clumsy carriage from the Auberge de France heralded its approach. It rolled up the street, a vast machine of wood and leather, drawn by three horses, and drew up at the door of the inn. Out sprang Rabecque, to be immediately sent by his master to summon mademoiselle. They would set out upon the instant.
"But... But... Are you sure that he is dead, monsieur?" inquired Rabecque; and his tone was one that implored contradiction. Gaubert looked and paused, seeming to give the matter a second's thought. "I saw him fall," said he. "It may be that he was no more than wounded." "And you left him there?" roared the servant. "You left him there?" Gaubert shrugged his shoulders.
But he controlled his passion at the cost of his appetite. He could not eat, so enraged was he. And so he pushed the platter from him, and rose. He turned to Rabecque, and the sight of his face sent the lackey back a pace or two in very fear. He waved his hand to the table. "Sup, Rabecque," said he. "Then come to me above."
The host returned, bearing a platter on which there steamed a ragout that gave out an appetizing odour; his wife followed with other dishes and a bottle of Armagnac under her arm. Rabecque busied himself at once, and his hungry master disposed himself to satisfy the healthiest appetite in France, when suddenly a shadow fell across the table.
"Stop them?" quoth the Seneschal. "Are you mad?" He shook off Rabecque's detaining hand, and left him, to cross the street again with ponderous and sluggish haste, no doubt to carry out his purpose of sending more troopers to the scene of the disturbance. Rabecque swore angrily and bitterly, and his vexation had two entirely separate sources.
Instantly two of them went out by the door they guarded, and ere it swung back again Rabecque saw that they were making for the stairs. The remaining four ranged themselves shoulder to shoulder across the doorway, plainly with intent to bar the way. Gaubert, followed immediately by Marius, stepped aside and approached the landlord with arms akimbo and a truculent smile on his pale hawk face.
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