Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

312 é “So you have married?” “No, monsieur’’ —the viscount would not call him sire—‘ not I, but your young captain here,” pointing to me. “ He in- terrupted my nuptials. His own were more fortunate. You and I are two disappointed men.” “So-0? I thought that I had a quarrel with you, D’Orsang. It seems that another has taken it upon himself.” ** Am I a prisoner?” the viscount asked. “No; I forgive you the sword practice. Ventre Saint Gris! It is something to have touched you.” _.. Thanks. I will be going.” “” “ Whither?” =. Pans.” “So shall I—some day.”” Henri laughed again. “1 shall help prepare a welcome for you,” retorted the fearless D’Orsang. He moved toward the door, his friends follow- ing. “I doubt not that ’twill be a warm ore,” the king flung after him. In the doorway the viscount paused, and bowed to Serene. “ Madame is welcome to make my home her own for so long as may please her,” he said; “and monsieur, too—if the Béarnais is generous. I will leave orders.” ‘And me—am I welcome, too?” inquired the king ironically. * Yes—when [ am gone.”’ The viscount bowed again, and disappeared. Henri stepped around the altar and con- fronted us. He paid me no attention, but bent his eyes upon Serene. Again I felt her shrink, and I tightened my clasp of her waist. “So, to escape me, my pretty one, you would have married him?” He jerked his thumb toward the door. ‘“ My God, how you must hate me!” ‘“'No, sire.” Serene straightened upright and faced him boldly. ‘I hate you not at all. But M. d’Orsang is an honest man; and I would sooner be wife to such than mistress to a king.” Henri folded one arm across the other and gazed at her, pulling at one of his ears. Of a sudden he snapped his eyes to ane, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEERLY. “And you, Captain Duhamel,” he said sternly; “I find you guilty of desertion and rebellion. Ventre Saint Gris! I catch you at it red handed! What say you?” “TI sent for him, sire. I alone am to blame,” interposed Serene, squeezing my ~ hand to keep me silent. But I would not keep silent. ‘““ Rebel and deserter I am, if you choose to say it, sire,” I answered; “ but if a man may not protect his own from dishonor, this is not free France.” I met his eyes and waited for the light- ning. Instead, they began to winkle. The tip of his nose twitched down, the corners of his mouth flew up, and he began to Jaugh, this time without irony. ““God’s blood! When I learned from D’Epernon what you were about, I had envy to hang you, as you hanged Nicolas— and as I think M. the Duke would hang you if he could catch you, for all that you are his nephew. How he did rave when they found his varlet swinging! “Ventre Saint Gris! You have been a busy man these last twenty-four hours, my boy! You have deserted your post, incited some of my best soldiers to rebellion, hanged a man without trial, and made your king wait upon a doorstep while you were being married. Now I suppose that you will tell me that I am to blame for it all. “Good; I am going to punish you.” Serene held out her hands in quick ap- peal. But I was no longer afraid. The king - had laughed at me; and by that token Tf knew that his great heart had conquered both passion and anger, and I had little to fear of his punishment. “Your penalty,” he continued, “ is dis- missal from my army for one year, which you will pass in close confinement on your estate in Champagne—with madame.” A shout which shook the windows went up from the soldiers, my lads from Cham- pagne cheering loudest of all. ‘“And you too, my children,” the king said, nodding to the line of them. ‘‘ You have served me faithfully for three years, and have earned a rest. In the north the Spaniard is beaten, and we shall take time to breathe.” Gomichooks (E)