D'Herouville appealed to Corporal Fremin. "Is that not an excellent
joke, my Corporal?"
"Eye of the bull, yes!"
"Ho! D'Herouville, wait for me!"
Madame sprang to her feet screaming: "Vicomte, save us!" She flew to
the door.
"Back, Madame," warned the Chevalier, "or you will have me killed."
With his left arm he barred the door.
"Have patience, sweet bird, whom I shall soon take to an eery nest. To
be sure I shall save you!" From behind a clumb of hazel the vicomte
came forth, a sword in his hand.
It was the tone, not the words, which enveloped madame's heart in a
film of ice. One way or the other, it did not matter, she was lost.
"Guard the Chevalier, men!" cried D'Herouville, wheeling. "We shall
wipe out all bad debts while we are at it. D'Halluys, look to
yourself!"
"You fat head!" laughed the vicomte, parrying in a circle. "Did I not
tell you that I should kill you?"
Had he been alone the Chevalier would have rushed his opponents. God
help madame when he fell, for he could not kill all these men; sooner
or later he must fall. The men made no attempt to engage him. They
merely held ready in case he should make a rush.
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