"Now, my fine fellow," said he, "put down your sword and give
yourself up."
I was so astounded at this infamous action that I stood petrified
before him. I tried to speak to him of honour and gratitude, but
I saw his eyes fix and harden over the pistol.
"Enough talk!" said he. "Drop it!"
Could I endure such a humiliation? Death were better than to be
disarmed in such a fashion. The word
"Fire!" was on my lips when in an instant the English man
vanished from before my face, and in his place was a great pile
of hay, with a red-coated arm and two Hessian boots waving and
kicking in the heart of it. Oh, the gallant landlady! It was my
whiskers that had saved me.
"Fly, soldier, fly!" she cried, and she heaped fresh trusses of
hay from the floor on to the struggling Englishman. In an
instant I was out in the courtyard, had led Violette from her
stable, and was on her back. A pistol bullet whizzed past my
shoulder from the window, and I saw a furious face looking out at
me. I smiled my contempt and spurred out into the road.
Pages:
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281