At last, "I will do it!" he cried hoarsely. "Give me a sword and look to
yourself."
"You promise?"
"Yes, yes, I promise!"
"Good," Count Hannibal answered suavely, "but we cannot fight so, we must
have more light."
And striding to the door he opened it, and calling the Norman bade him
move the table and bring candles--a dozen candles; for in the narrow
streets the light was waning, and in the half-shuttered room it was
growing dusk. Tignonville, listening with a throbbing brain, wondered
that the attendant expressed no surprise and said no word--until Tavannes
added to his orders one for a pair of swords.
Then, "Monsieur's sword is here," Bigot answered in his half-intelligible
patois. "He left it here yester morning."
"You are a good fellow, Bigot," Tavannes answered, with a gaiety and good-
humour which astonished Tignonville. "And one of these days you shall
marry Suzanne."
The Norman smiled sourly and went in search of the weapon.
"You have a poniard?" Count Hannibal continued in the same tone of
unusual good temper, which had already struck Tignonville. "Excellent!
Will you strip, then, or--as we are? Very good, Monsieur; in the
unlikely event of fortune declaring for you, you will be in a better
condition to take care of yourself.
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