Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 144: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

wy eA : i ble ie oe ai) - th Cubyo bee fe eae nh AON oy S ohh ce tN Pre 4 3802 ' must have ridden well. ‘But certainly, my son,” returned the monk, rising, albeit reluctantly, I thought. He included us both in an inclination of his head, and swept off down the room, vanish- ing like a tall, pale ghost into the dusk of an apartment beyond. The instant his back was turned, the duke laid a finger across his lips. Nor was he satisfied to speak to “me until he had made the round of all his dcors, to make sure that there were no lis- teners. ‘“Fooi!” he snarled. him of the king!” I felt my calm returning. I had made him one return for his thrust about my father; and I was beginning to vex him. He paused in front of me, tugging ner- vously with both hands at the gold chain which hung across his breast. “T had not expected to hear from the king so soon,” he went on. “ My courier Did he return with you? What are your instructions?” “T did not see your courier, M. the Duke. I heard that he had been pitched from his horse and had broken an arm,” I lied read- ily. ‘My instructions were brought me by a rider from Yvetot, where the king gives battle to the Spaniards. They were to take what men might be spared from the garrison at Argueil and to ride hither in haste to act as escort to a certain lady. I was further instructed to call upon you for aid to recover the lady from where she ae “Plague! Does he expect me to do that, too?” M. the Duke was very vexed in- deed. “Ves,” said I; “I have only twenty-five men.” “Eh, well ”»—he shrugged his shoulders ——‘*] will find you the men if I must; but tis dangerous business. Know you who the lady is?” He leered up at me wickedly. “Ves: she is Mlle. Serene de Lorme, your grace’s cousin,” I said, as indifferently as I could manage. My apparent unease pleased him vastly. He sat down again. “What devilish tricks fate plays with you, to be sure, nephew,” he resumed, put- ting the tips of his fingers together. “ Your respected father, the horse trader, turns “To speak before ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, out to be a robber; there is another mat- ter, of which I will not speak even to you; and now you are sent by the king to fetch to him the little turtle dove, for whom, if I mistake not, your own heart has been hankering these three years. Poor boy!” “You have omitted the greatest of all my misfortunes,” I replied, maintaining my coolness, when I could cheerfully have strangled him. ‘““And that is?” “That M. the Duke d’Epernon is my uncle. I can conceive of no disgrace more humiliating than that.” He sprang up, quivering. But he, too, restrained himself. “Tut, we must not be flying at each other’s throats! First of all comes the king’s affair. As for the rest of it, it seems that I have all the best of you, nephew.” “You will give me men?” I asked. “* Time presses.” “Yes; you shall have a score or so of my varlets. But there is not so much haste. I expect an agent from Rambouillet at any moment, to report on the course of events there. Another thing: the deed must be done by daylight, so that M. the Vis- count can see for himself that I have no part in it. It was not in my understanding with the king that I should embroil myself with the League—not yet. You shall go to Rambouillet to-morrow. Bring in your men and house them here for the night, nephew; and if there cannot be peace be- tween us, let there at least be truce.” I would have laid down considerable gold sooner than pass a night under my uncle’s roof; but I saw no way out of it. I went out and fetched in my men. Torinaz, by his own suggestion, rode on to Rambouillet, to lie there for the night, and keep his eyes and ears open. While we were stabling the horses, D’Epernon’s flunkey came seeking me. J found with his master none other than that burly assassin Nicolas, who greeted my ap- pearance with an air of mingled uneasiness and bravado. ‘Nicolas is an excellent spy,”’ commend- ed his master. “ He says that M. d’Orsang is to be wedded to-morrow afternoon, and will at once set out with his bride for Paris. Gomichbooks — ~ - at ~ eis. ee Oe a |