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Updated: June 24, 2025
They were both admirable swordsmen, yet it was clear from the first where the palm lay. Anything nimbler, lighter, easier than the sword-play of Yeux-gris I never hope to see in this imperfect world. The heavier adversary was hot, angry, breathing hard.
Monsieur himself had made it necessary for me to take another master, and assuredly I owed something to Yeux-gris. I had reason to feel confidence in his honour; surely I might reckon that he would not be in the affair unless it were honest. Lucas was like enough a scoundrel of whom Monsieur would be well rid.
Yeux-gris stared at him, neither in fear nor in fury, but in utter stupefaction. "But Gervais? He plotted with you? But he hates you!" We gaped at Lucas like yokels at a conjurer. He made us no answer but looked from one to the other of us with the alertness of an angry viper. We were two, but without swords. I knew he was thinking how easiest to end us both. M. le Comte cried: "You!
My bewilderment was so great that the words came out of themselves: "Messieurs, is it Lucas you mean to kill?" Yeux-gris looked at me, not instantly replying. I cried again to him: "Monsieur, is it Lucas or the duke?" Then Yeux-gris, despite a gesture from Gervais, who would have told me nothing I might ask, exclaimed: "Why, Lucas!"
All the while I heard the sword-blades clashing. Yeux-gris, God be thanked! seemed to be holding his own. Fighting Gervais was like fighting two men. Slowly but steadily he pressed me down and held me. I struggled for dear life and could not push him back an inch. I still held my knife but my arms were pinned down.
I had been stupid enough to imagine the big Gervais the leader of the two, and I found myself mistaken. I dropped on my knee and kissed my saviour's hand in all gratitude. "Aha," said Yeux-gris, "what think you now of being my valet?" Verily, I was hard pushed. "Monsieur," I said, "I owe you much more than I can ever pay. If you were any man's enemy but my duke's, I would serve you on my knees.
I said: "Monsieur, you do not seem to understand how I come to make this offer." "To get out of the house with a whole skin." I had a joy in daring him, being sure of Yeux-gris. "Monsieur," I said, "I should be glad to leave this house with my skin whole or broken, so long as I left on my own feet. But you have mentioned the very reason why I shall not betray you.
He held out a sudden hand for the cross, which I gave him, wondering. "I swear that we mean no harm whatsoever to the Duke of St. Quentin." He kissed the cross and flung the chain back over my neck. At last I saw the door unlocked. Yeux-gris even returned to me my knife. "Au revoir, messieurs." Gervais, sullen to the last, vouchsafed no answer, but Yeux-gris called out cheerily, "Au revoir."
For I had not the satisfaction in my trouble of thinking that I had done right. Monsieur's danger should have been my first consideration. What was Yeux-gris, perjured scoundrel, in comparison with M. le Duc? And yet I knew that at the end of the half-hour I should not tell; at the end of the flogging I should not tell.
His sword flew wide, and Gervais slashed his arm from wrist to elbow. With a smothered cry, Yeux-gris caught at his wound. Gervais, ablaze with rage, sprang past him on his creature. The man gaped with amazement; then, for there was no time for parley, leaped for the door. It was locked. He turned, and with a look of deathly terror fell on his knees, crouched up against the door-post.
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