Part 22 (1/2)
”Stand back!” he said hotly. ”Back!”
And as hot an answer trembled on my tongue, but I held myself in.
”Monsieur, you do not seem to know me. Shall I remind you of this morning?”
At my words it was he who went back; his hand left his sword-hilt, and he stood staring at me.
”You!” he stammered. ”I did not recognise--I--I did not know----”
”Enough, monsieur! I forgive you the ill turn you were about to play me. Perhaps, were I in your case, I would do the same----”
”If so, then my course is clear. In any other thing I would yield to you, but not in this.”
”Listen. Your plan was well laid; but my men are not traitors, and I--I have not slept. Monsieur de Ganache, I have but to raise my voice, and there will be three to one against you----”
”I care not,” he answered furiously, and his sword flashed in his hand, but in a moment Diane was between us.
”De Ganache! Monsieur Broussel! Put back your swords, I implore you!”
And with this she clung to De Ganache's arm. He paled to the lips as he tried to free himself.
”Diane, 'tis our only way! Keep back, Diane!”
But for answer she clung all the more to him, and it seemed as if she were covering him from my sword, as she cried out again: ”No, no! It is too terrible! I will not have it! It must not be!”
I looked from one to another, a hundred emotions tearing at my heart.
I had seen enough to understand how these two stood to one another, and, utterly miserable at heart, I gave way. A sudden impulse, that carried me as like a wave, seized me, and I burst out:
”Monsieur de Ganache, let it be for Mademoiselle de Paradis to decide between us. I give you my word I will abide by her choice.”
Diane let her hand fall from De Ganache's arm and turned to me in astonishment. And De Ganache stared at me with wide-open eyes, and asked slowly, dropping his words out:
”You say this?--you pledge your word?”
”I have said so. I undertook to take mademoiselle to Paris, and to see her in safety there, at the cost of my life if need be. I have since learned that which makes it impossible for me to do this unless mademoiselle comes with me of her own free will. I leave her to make her choice.”
”Then, Diane, come!” And De Ganache turned towards her, a hand outstretched. I stepped aside to leave the way free, but to my surprise mademoiselle made no answer, but stood in wavering hesitation, now looking at one and then at the other of us. Once more De Ganache began to urge her, stepping quite close up and speaking in low but quick and earnest tones.
”Diane, the very stars are with us! What is there that makes you hesitate? By to-morrow evening we will be with our own people, and henceforth I will always be by your side to defend you.”
She stopped him with an impatient gesture of her hand. Even where she stood in the half light I saw the red rush to her cheeks at his last words; and then she asked:
”Monsieur Broussel, I too have been learning, or rather guessing, at some things since I came down here. Is it you that Monsieur le Vicomte has to thank for his life?”
I did not answer; but De Ganache began to speak as one defending himself:
”I do thank him; but when I told you of this I did not know Monsieur Broussel's name, Diane.”
”All this does not concern the matter,” I cut in. ”What mademoiselle has to decide is whether she will go on to Paris or not. Which shall it be?” And I faced her.