"
The magistrate bowed. He quaked, he doubted, but he had no choice.
"My lord," he said, "I put myself in your hands. It shall be done,
certainly it shall be done. But, but--" and shaking his head in
foreboding, he turned to the door. At the last moment, when he was
within a pace of it, the Countess rose impulsively to her feet. She
called to him.
"M. le Prevot, a minute, if you please," she said. "There may be trouble
to-morrow; your daughter may be in some peril. You will do well to send
her to me. My lord"--and on the word her voice, uncertain before, grew
full and steady--"will see that I am safe. And she will be safe with
me."
The Provost saw before him only a gracious lady, moved by a
thoughtfulness unusual in persons of her rank. He was at no pains to
explain the flame in her cheek, or the soft light which glowed in her
eyes, as she looked at him across her formidable husband. He was only
profoundly grateful--moved even to tears. Humbly thanking her, he
accepted her offer for his child, and withdrew wiping his eyes. When he
was gone, and the door had closed behind him, Tavannes turned to the
Countess, who still kept her feet.
"You are very confident this evening," he sneered. "Gibbets do not
frighten you, it seems, madame. Perhaps if you knew for whom the one
before the door is intended?"
She met his look with a searching gaze, and spoke with a ring of defiance
in her tone.
Pages:
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348