The evening world. Newspaper, December 10, 1904, Page 11

ee TE — : i i : 4 ITH ALESBANDRO. peti ite (yah z Rune Hl tel S¢ inaliae Fae dHee ; i i ‘i qui sa? 13 sf gE: BEE Fe bumped to the hall below, and lay stil. Five yet fought, smash- with all their might I bad bad another q t his ribs and went scraping links of chain, Jacques!" I cried, waa fighting with consdimmate method, ran one through the neck then, four to four, we closed in pairs, Jacques, narrowly dodging sprang past the biade of the one in mail, seized him by the right drove his rapler downward from the throat into the chest. It ¢tuck d tore out of his grip In the fall, But he wrenched the rapler from the held and turned to help me, The three that remained, seeing their case Gesperate, mad a dash for the stairs, shouting to one another te save themse., grt dite Hy tte » Strozal, Salviati, Jacques and I sprang after. “Bravo!” howled the Duke hoarsely, “After them! Run them down, the cut- throats! Silce them, spit them, riddle them every one!” They bounded out like deer in their (right. The pace left Jacques and me alone at their heels, Tho rearmost came within arm's reach, I jabbed fiercely at a flying leg and apitted ft. The fellow phinged over with a thud and lay swearing and kicking. A blow under the ear with my poniard finished him, Stroszi and Sal- viati had gone by. Jacques was already fur ahead. I followed. All at once I could see the two that led swerve, one to either aide, Jacques, with his impetus, fan on half past them, and two sword points flashed at his sides, But be leapt into the air like a startled buek, struck one eword far into the shrubbery and + met the other with a parry and a pass that etetched the man writhing by the side of the road. Strozai and Satviat! fell upon the last, who had but his poniard. Com- ing up I joined them, In a moment he was down and we were standing over him, our three sword-points sticking in his body. Without a word we strode back towatd the nunnery, sheathing our ewords dacques and I fell a little behind, *“Monaieur gvil! now require finesse,” remarked Jacques, “to which this was mere bungling.” “They shall not see Blanche Lamont,” I whispered, ‘Then a thought struck me. “Get the keys from the Abbess,” I added, ‘and keep them at all coat.” “Yea, Monsieur,” he replied simply. CHAPTER IV. I Revoke, HOEVER you are,” sald the Duke, as we entered, “you fenced $6 as 1 never saw men fence in all my life, you and your man Jacques.” I could not take the hand he offered, but bowed low, pretending not to see it, “And now,” continued the Duke, his eye wandering to nzacclo, who sat watching him Ike a cat, “we are six in- 14 not long be hindered at our object. I tell you, the falr- wastes her beauty in th cellar walls, We'll pay our , Bt ? Co Abbe he keys!’ sign, t e, bi) { jyick r tiralld of bluse, But head Gbbieh. BM ing J who t n p “Tam unfortunate Pp Y\ ys in lency.” ‘ ted Alessandro, pursing ick lips, “By Bacchus, of tout, ahd novice in all I mpliménts to her, The Abbess made about to burst into “Nay,” 1 anew direction of the A opposition to Your “In opposition?” ¢: \ do you mean?’ \ “I will neither help look on,”’ I repeated, speaking slowly to give Jacques time. He was w the Abbess. “What then?” Alessandro, Jacques nodded. “I'l do what I can to hinder you, Sir Duke," | cried. He few at me with his fist im the alr. Lorensaccio rose from the table Balviati and Stross! drew and sprang between ua. “Courage, Monsieur!" rang a rich, deep woman's voice from some door about the gallery. “God give you strength!” - Jacques was beside me im a bound. Lorenzaccio sprang with his bared sword across the table, “Remember!” I cried, ‘if {ll should chance of this I'm innocent of blame, You're attacking me in a bad cause, two to one, in return for saving your lives. A ducal thanks!” Alessandro could not stomach the taunt, Grabbing the sword out of Lerea- gaccio’s hand, he shoved him to one side, calling: and darted out of reach again. I waa down, with Salviati at my throat, his knee upon my chest. “Btop the other!” blurted Strons!, and I knew that Jacques had bolted, A quick glance about told me that we were In a long, low-vaulted room, whose stone wails were hung with sombre tapestries, Beside me stood a bare wooden “Draw nearor, Gaspard d’Aubray,” eaid the latter in an even voice that had boding. So he intended to accept the letter, I thought, as I went and stood before them. “Monsieur d'Aubray,” began Stroasl afresh, “it is the Duke's pleasure to ax sign (o me the painful duty of calling you to account for your gravely fil be- havior, There are several charges. First, your coming to my palace introduced by Hes and spying to the great abuse of hospitality. But that is a private charge and I let it drop for weightier tugs that touch affairs of state.” I laughed outright. “Good!” be went on after a short pause. ‘The fitting penalty ts therefore trial upon the rack, a of attaining truth which is in every sense as admirable as it ts infallible. But His Excellency, in consideration of your assistance in fouting the ruffians at the nunnery, has vouchsafed an alternative, In place of the rack you may choose immediate marriage with the signorina, whose @ause you have so knightly, if mfstakenly, espoused.” The Duke and Lorensicelo were bending forward in suspense. “Have you chosen, Monsfeur d'Aubray?”’ inquired Stross! at tast. ° to the devil!” I cried in a fury, “and get to your butcher's work,” Duke bounced from his seat, beside himself, “=> “You winced not, hey? Well, on my oath! Out of the way, both of you! TO manage you alone.” And well he might, for I lay at his merey, the joints already Grawing apart. A loud knock sounded on the door, Strozal opened it, ° the Duke,” he remarked, coming back with a letter and handing K to “For “Tea thousand furies!” stormed the latter, tearing open the sheet, “If any of these infatuated women”—dot he stopped as his eye caught the lino, and read in silence. Then he handod the sheet to Strossl, whe glanced at & and folded it with a shrug. “He's right,” declared Alesandro: “Vitelll’s right. We're fools to waste the precious time till dawn upon this etagey imposter, Come, all of youl Back to the ball! Time enough for this in Lewt. We'll go for an hour or s0 and see the end of the fun. We've thrown away two mortal hours already— thanks to this pig-headed bonster here. Come! Quick—away! “Now, Monsieur d’Aubray,” he continued, turning to me with the hellish Kght a-flicker in his eyes, “we'll leave you here a while to think upon your Oargain. Rest sure, we'll find you tame enough on our return. Lie and wiggle yourself out of your dirty pride.” They left the room noisily, Without, I could hear the Duke call to Tomasso, — the key, ‘Then the tramp of ther feet died out and I was left alone, : With the stillness, my plight came opon me with a rush. The drag upon my joints made me sick as from the tossing of the sea, and a giddiness swam over me, Wave upon wave. A sweat sprang out upon me, trickling down my face and oczing into my clothes, where they pressed upon the table, Each breath my lungs drove out with their mechanical contraction threatened, It seemed, to part me in twain across the middle. I tried only to breathe in; it seemed to make me longer. But the throbbing of my heart grew harder and harder, and in my cars began a buzzing as of the rush of some wild stream overhead, A siream, the open air, the daylight, movement, effort, battle! Would these ever be mine to enjoy again? What was death to me? Alone, a soldier of fortune, the paid sword of many a prince's pique or woman's whim, 1 had never feared it, nay, T had sought it, having naught else to seek, But to die so, the plaything of a Stroazi and a Medici! I would not die. The life I had scorned and could not lose was yet too good to give them for revenge, A now resolve wrote itself quickly in my brain, I had but tasted the cup of life. There was something to live for that I had missed, and 1 would live till I had found It. I craned my head upward and forward to take a look about. The idea suggested Itself that if I could contrive to get my weight all upon one side I might, by a sudden jerk, overturn the table and fairly wrench away the chains or a plece of myself, it did not matter which if only I were free. They should not lay me there again while a pulse of blood gave strength to fight, I began to worm my middle outward in an angle, But this shortened my length ead redoubled the strain, and I wriggled back, breathing so bard I ecarce could draw in alr enough, The buzzing in my ears that wus like the rush of a stream grew louder and louder, pounding and throbbing. Some one was bending over me, It seemed to be In the night, What sweet volce was that? “Monsieur—monsieur!" it sald, I tried to rouse and answer, but the words failed. Some kindly nun, I thought, has found me in the camp, and tries to help. “Monsieur—Monsieur d'Aubray,” she pleaded, But I had been sore wounded and had \lost the power to move, With a quivering of the lids that weighed so heavily, pened my eyes. ut me, tapestries, This was Torch smoke upon a vaulted ceiling and, md the }h@ins jangled on the boards as I no camp. Where was I 5 ng! ce! me, tell Blanche Lamont you are not dead.” \ Blanche Lamom! I tapestries, yes, from the “No,” I oried, “alive,” “Thank God!” came the vy from the torment. from the wall beyond the ht was dancing, , Testful, stealing the sharpness CHAPTER V. I Play the Coward. HY did you come?’ I asked, ' 46 “I must know what they would do to you, Monsieur,” “They have put me to bed, Mademoiselle, or I had gone to meet you.” “But can you not come nearer, Monsieur, go that I may eee you?” “I am unable to move, Mademoiselle.” ? “Unable to move! Oh, tell me, what have they done to aad “They have made me fast.” ‘ “How? “With chains to the four corners.” “Chained Im bed, Monsieur? It cannot be Why, there is no bed in there? says there is nothing but a bench and a table, Tell mo the truth, “They are not done, Mademoiselle." “Not done? You are not still upon the tack? Oh t you do not suffer any more for me!” ee “I am no longer alone.” li “Oh, Monsieur, I beg of you, forget such words, Spoak the plain language, ea if I wore a man, Tell me at once, why did they put you theref” “Because I did not choose to marry, Mademoiselle,” marry! Whom?" I must marry you or this, Mademoiselle” must bate me, Monsieur,” the thought of winning you #0.” “Hush! Ob, it is too hard I cannot even see you! If only I cwuld come to there's no key, Jacques says the Duke has taken it—the only one, nothing. only hate myself for bringing you to this pass, Why did I ever speak, Monsieur? I had kept silent had 1 known, But when they come back you'll tell them—won't you, Monsiewr?—that you will marry me?’ “Think but of what you ask, Mademoiselle? Would you have them mock me as & coward, conquered by the pincers and the chains and base enough to profit by your pity? Impossible!" “What care you for the taunts of euch as they! I'd rather have thelr scorn than their praise, You know you would not stop at that. ‘Tis chivairy that stops you—chivalry alone, Do you see this, Monsieur?’ A torch flamed through the opening. “he torch, Mademoiseiley What then?’ “Then hearken! ‘This torch I'm holding here in one hand close by the little window, and it is burning as it was when I @howed it to you. Now the other arm I've bared half way to the shoulder, and I'm going to put it in the fame.” “In God's name, Mademoiselle!" I cried, wrenching at the fastenings, “Yea, and I shall hold it there till you agree.” “Stop'—a moment!—Mademoiselle, have pity!” “Now I've put it in the flame. So. It is scorching now.” “T'll marty you!” I cried at the top of my voice, “There! I knew you would. When they come back you'll tell them you've changed your mind, that you'll marry me.” “It will be worse than a)l, Mademolselle,” “Ob, ungallant!” “I mean the cowan part, Mademoiselle.” “But you'll have me!’ Blanche Lamont laughed eochantingly, “Think of that, Monsieur!" “If I marry you, Mademoiselle, I ehan't be free.” “Not free?” “Your arm, Mademoiselle.” ‘And what of that?’ * De you think I'd let you leave me after thatr”’ Ob, Jacques, . ~~ at tet * Ad 44.~—