Mademoiselle uttered a slight cry.
Montignac, who stood beside her, was as much taken aback as La Chatre
was, but was quicker to comprehend the situation. Without moving from his
attitude of surprise, he regarded me with intense curiosity and hate.
This was his first sight of me, hence his curiosity. He had already
inferred that mademoiselle loved me, therefore his hate.
"Who are you?" said La Chatre, at last, in a tone of mingled alarm and
resentment, as one might address a supernatural intruder.
"The Sieur de la Tournoire," said I, "standing face to face with you in
the chateau of Clochonne! You shall give mademoiselle that order for her
father's release, or you shall never break your word again."
And I drew my sword, and held it with its point towards his breast.
The fear of death blanched his cheeks and spurred his dull wits.
"Montignac," he cried, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, "if this man makes
a move, kill the woman!"
In his situation of peril, his mind had become agile. He had suddenly
perceived how things were between mademoiselle and me.
As I have shown, Montignac stood with mademoiselle at some distance from
La Chatre and myself. I dared not take my eye from the governor, lest he
should step out of reach of my sword; but I could hear Montignac quickly
unsheathe his dagger, and mademoiselle give a sharp ejaculation of pain.
Then I turned my head for a moment's glance, and saw that he had caught
her wrist in a tight grasp, and that he held his dagger ready to plunge
it into her breast.
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