Part 17 (1/2)

”What I hold against you is that you have been taken armed--a rebel against your King and your G.o.d. I am going to make an example of you, and shall deal out to you the same mercy you showed to Champagnac, and----”

”Enough, monsieur!” said the prisoner; ”let this talking end. If I have to die, let me die. I do not want a priest. I die in my faith, which is not yours. Let the matter end quickly, and be done with it.”

A grim smile played on Montluc's lips as he leaned heavily on his sword.

”Well, be it so! I will not keep you. Supposing we say a leap.”

”A leap?”

”Yes--from these battlements. If not, you will hang.”

”Hang!--I!” And a flush came on the young n.o.ble's face.

”Precisely. Champagnac was hanged, if you remember, and it is the fate you reserved for me. You, however, have a choice.”

For a moment there was a silence, and Montluc made a sign to the guards on either side of De Ganache to move away, and he was left free, except that his hands were fastened. With a half turn he looked over the battlements and gazed down from their dizzy height, and as he appeared at the embrasure there arose a hoa.r.s.e cry from below. He drew back, and faced Montluc again.

”Is it to be like this?” he asked thickly, making a motion to indicate his tied hands.

”Yes; you will fall easier.”

At this brutal answer De Ganache looked hopelessly around, as if imploring help. His fort.i.tude seemed to give way, and he began to s.h.i.+ver in an uncontrollable manner. I could endure it no longer, and made a step forward; but, growling something that I did not catch, Sarlaboux seized me by the arm and drew me back. Just at this moment Montluc laughed a bitter, stinging laugh; and the wretched prisoner, swinging round, nerved himself to step again to the embrasure, and stopped there tottering. Again the shout rose from below, and Montluc rasped out:

”Come, De Ganache, two looks are enough!”

”I'll give you three to do it in, Monsieur de Montluc,” I burst forth, and shaking Sarlaboux off stepped up to the General.

”You!” he snarled.

”Monsieur,” I exclaimed, ”this will cover you with shame! This is the act of a tiger, not a man. Forbear!--for the sake of your own fame, your own honour.”

There was a low murmur behind me; even the stolid guards glanced at each other; but Montluc, after one swift, angry look at me, kept his head down, and made no answer, standing glowering at the hilt of his sword as one who did not hear.

It was De Ganache, however, who spoke. He had plucked up heart again after his weakness.

”There is at least one gentleman here! Let him alone, monsieur! Plead not! After all, death is but death.” But I stayed him with uplifted hand, and went on: ”Monsieur de Montluc, you will ever regret this.

Will you soil your glory with this act of shame?”

Our eyes met, and the sombre fury in his look dropped before my gaze.

I saw my advantage, and approaching closer to him urged him again, and to my joy he began to waver. Suddenly he turned from me, and walking to the battlements looked down himself, remaining there for a s.p.a.ce amidst an absolute silence, broken but once by the uneasy clink of a spur.

So he stood, and we waited breathlessly, for all hung on a hair; and then as suddenly he turned to us, his face looking older and more wrinkled than ever.

”M. de Ganache,” he said in a hard voice, ”you are free. Guards, loose him!”

Without another word or look he stepped forward, and began to limp slowly down the winding stair.

CHAPTER XIV