"
"He has her pinched like a mouse in a weasel's teeth."
"My faith, mademoiselle has no sweet road to travel since her
mother died," was the careless reply.
I almost cried out. Here was a blow which staggered me. Her
mother dead!
Presently the scoffer continued: "The Duvarneys would remain in
the city, and on that very night, as they sit at dinner, a shell
disturbs them, a splinter strikes Madame, and two days after she
is carried to her grave."
They linked arms and walked on.
It was a dangerous business I was set on, for I was sure that I
would be hung without shrift if captured. As it proved afterwards,
I had been proclaimed, and it was enjoined on all Frenchmen and
true Catholics to kill me if the chance showed.
Only two things could I depend on: Voban and my disguise, which
was very good. From the Terror of France I had got a peasant's
dress, and by rubbing my hands and face with the stain of
butternut, cutting again my new-grown beard, and wearing a wig,
I was well guarded against discovery.
How to get into the city was the question. By the St. Charles
River and the Palace Gate, and by the St. Louis Gate, not far from
the citadel, were the only ways, and both were difficult.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96