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Updated: June 5, 2025
"I have told, sir," murmured Milady, lowering her voice, and allowing herself to sink overpowered to the ground; "I have told my secret! He knows all! My God, I am lost!" Felton remained standing, motionless and undecided. "He still doubts," thought Milady; "I have not been earnest enough." Someone was heard in the corridor; Milady recognized the step of Lord de Winter.
Felton started; and Milady felt she was lost if she did not come to the assistance of the disconcerted Puritan. "Ah, you fear your prisoner should escape!" said she. "Well, ask your worthy jailer what favor I this instant solicited of him." "You demanded a favor?" said the baron, suspiciously. "Yes, my Lord," replied the young man, confused. "And what favor, pray?" asked Lord de Winter.
For the first time an emotion of terror reminded her that she was a woman. The dark space frightened her. "I expected this," said Felton. "It's nothing, it's nothing!" said Milady. "I will descend with my eyes shut." "Have you confidence in me?" said Felton. "You ask that?" "Put your two hands together. Cross them; that's right!"
But that which was not just was, that, when in England, this woman, by her seductions, completely enslaved a young man in the service of Lord de Winter, by name Felton. You change color, my lord," said Athos, turning to the Duke of Buckingham, "and your eyes kindle with anger and sorrow.
In the morning, Felton came as usual; but Milady allowed him to preside over all the preparations for breakfast without addressing a word to him.
Felton sat down upon an armchair which happened to be near the door, and waited without speaking a word, without making a gesture. Milady possessed that great art, so much studied by women, of looking through her long eyelashes without appearing to open the lids. She perceived Felton, who sat with his back toward her.
I think very well of it," cried the prudent old commander. "If four hundred men must needs run a tilt against sixty thousand, I cannot see how they can do it better or more safely." "And so say I," cried Felton, heartily. "But I wish the day were over, for it will be an ill thing for us if they chance to light upon us."
Before she went to bed she had pondered, analyzed, turned on all sides, examined on all points, the words, the steps, the gestures, the signs, and even the silence of her interlocutors; and of this profound, skillful, and anxious study the result was that Felton, everything considered, appeared the more vulnerable of her two persecutors.
And he darted out of the room, shut the door, and waited in the corridor, the soldier's half-pike in his hand, and as if he had mounted guard in his place. The soldier returned, and Felton gave him back his weapon. Then, through the grating to which she had drawn near, Milady saw the young man make a sign with delirious fervor, and depart in an apparent transport of joy.
As soon as Lord de Winter saw Buckingham was dead, he ran to Felton, whom the soldiers still guarded on the terrace of the palace. "Wretch!" said he to the young man, who since the death of Buckingham had regained that coolness and self-possession which never after abandoned him, "wretch! what have you done?" "I have avenged myself!" said he. "Avenged yourself," said the baron.
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