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Updated: June 22, 2025
Let go, or " He tried to press her throat, but in changing his hold allowed her to utter a second scream, louder, more shrill, more full of passion than the other. At the same instant a chair, knocked down by Blondel in his efforts, fell with a crash, throwing down a pewter platter; and Claude, white and breathless as he was, began to struggle, seeing his mistress so handled.
"The worst, sir, the worst, if I rightly apprehend the matter." "Curse you," Blondel cried, contrary to his custom, for he was no swearer, "you will kill me, if you do not speak." "But " "What has happened. What has happened, man!" "I was going to tell you, honoured sir, that I watched her " "Anne? The girl?" "Yes, and an hour before midnight she took that which you wished me to get the bottle.
He may be all you said he was, Messer Syndic, but " "But you no longer burn to break the spell?" Blondel cried. "You no longer desire to snatch from him the woman you love? You will stand by and see her perish body and soul in this web of iniquity? You are frightened, and will leave her to the law!" He thrust out his thin flushed face, his pointed beard wagging malignantly.
Blondel objected. He repented the moment he had said it. "By name, no. But he says " "Enough for any one with eyes!" Petitot exclaimed. "He says," Fabri repeated, requesting the other by a gesture to be silent, "that the Grand Duke's emissary is a Paduan expelled from Venice or from Genoa. That is near enough. And I confess, were I in your place, Messer Blondel "
That all the wealth of kings cannot produce it, nor the Spanish Indies furnish it? Do you remember these things, Messer Blondel, and do you ask if I keep it like a common philtre in a box in my lodgings?" He snorted in contempt, and going disdainfully to the hearth spat in the fire as if he could not brook the idea. Then returning to the Syndic's side, he took up his story in a different tone.
As Blondel sang by cot and hall, Through town and stream and forest passed, And found, at length, the dungeon wall, And freed the Lion-heart at last So must your hapless minstrel fare, By hill and hollow violing; He flings a ditty on the air, He wonders if you hear him sing!
Here two minutes later Louis found him; and if Blondel still cherished hope, if he still fought against fear, or maintained courage, the lad's smirking face was enough to end all. For a moment, such was the effect on him, Blondel could not speak. At last, with an effort, "What is it?" he said. "What has happened?" "Much," Louis replied glibly.
"He has discovered something," Blondel concluded in his mind, "if it be not the Philosopher's Stone or the Elixir of Life. I am sure he has discovered something." And with eyes grown sharp and greedy, the magistrate raked the room. The scholar stood thoughtful where he had paused, and did not seem to notice him.
Sometimes they would cheat themselves with the thought that they heard an answering voice; but it was not until the end of the fourth week, when singing outside the castle of Diernstein, that a full rich voice, when Blondel ceased, sang out the second stanza of the poem. With difficulty Blondel and Cuthbert restrained themselves from an extravagant exhibition of joy.
Those few words that in a moment raised the discussion from the low level of detail on which the Inquisitor commonly wasted himself, and set it on the true plane of patriotism for with all his faults Petitot was a patriot silenced Blondel while they irritated and puzzled him. Why did the man assume such airs? Why talk as if he and he alone cared for Geneva?
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