Cardinal, for instance, and in her sudden coldness and the next question that fell from her beauteous lips I read that she had guessed me one of these.
“Why did the mob pursue you, Monsieur?”
There was in her voice and gesture when she asked a question the imperiousness of one accustomed to command replies. This pretty queenliness it was that drove me to answer—as I had done before—in a bantering strain.
“Why did the mob pursue me? Hum! Why does the mob pursue great men? Because it loves their company.”
Her matchless eyes flashed an angry glance, and the faint smile on my lips must have tried her temper sorely.
“What did you do to deserve this affection?”
“A mere nothing—I killed a man,” I answered coolly. “Or, at least, I left him started on the road to—Paradise.”
The little flaxen-haired doll uttered a cry of horror, and covered her face with her small white hands. My inquisitor, however, sat rigid and unaffected. My answer had confirmed her suspicions.
“Why did you kill him?”
“Ma foi!” I replied, encouraging her thoughts, “because he sought to kill me.”
“Ah! And why did he seek to kill you?”
“Because I disturbed him at dinner.”
“Have a care how you trifle, sir!” she retorted, her eyes kindling again.
“Upon my honour, 't was no more than that. I pulled the cloth from the table whilst he ate. He was a quick-tempered gentleman, and my playfulness offended him. That is all.”
Doubt appeared in her eyes, and it may have entered her mind that perchance her judgment had been over-hasty.
“Do you mean, sir, that you provoked a duel?”
“Alas, Madame! It had become
Prev.
Back
Top