Blaise came running out of the inn, with sword drawn. When he had
joined me, I stopped and turned to face De Berquin. He was before me
ere I had time to explain to Blaise. In his rage, he made a violent
thrust at me, which Blaise turned aside. De Berquin then leaped back,
to put himself on guard.
At that instant, the first stroke of eight came from the distant tower
of Clochonne.
"Filthy cur, you have lied to me!" cried De Berquin.
"Nay, monsieur," I answered, throwing from me the weapons of Barbemouche
and Francois, "I keep my word. I promised you La Tournoire unarmed.
Behold him!"
And I stepped out from beside Blaise and stood with open arms.
"La Tournoire!" repeated De Berquin, taking a backward step and staring
at me with open mouth.
"La Tournoire!" came in a faint, horror-stricken voice from behind me.
I turned and beheld mademoiselle, who had come out from the inn on
hearing my call for Blaise. With her were Hugo and Jeannotte. Behind were
the inn-keepers and the gypsies. On mademoiselle's face, which was
lighted by a torch that Hugo carried, was a death-like pallor, and such a
look of horror, grief, and self-reproach, as I have never seen on any
other human countenance.
"Mademoiselle!" I cried, hastening to her side. "What is the matter?"
"'Tis but--surprise,--M. de la Tournoire!" she answered, weakly, raising
her hand feebly as if to keep me from approaching her, while her eyes,
which were fixed on mine as by a terrible fascination, seemed to be
starting from her head.
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