"I'll have you grilled for this one day," said I. "You are no men,
but butchers. Can you not see my ankle has been sorely hurt?"
"You are for killing," was the gruff reply, "and here's a taste
of it."
With that he drew the chain with a jerk round the hurt member,
so that it drove me to madness. I caught him by the throat and
hurled him back against the wall, and snatching a pistol from his
comrade's belt aimed it at his head. I was beside myself with pain,
and if he had been further violent I should have shot him. His
fellow dared not stir in his defence, for the pistol was trained
on him too surely; and so at last the wretch, promising better
treatment, crawled to his feet, and made motion for the pistol to
be given him. But I would not yield it, telling him it should be
a guarantee of truce. Presently the door closed behind them, and I
sank back upon the half-fettered chains.
I must have sat for more than an hour, when there was a noise
without, and there entered the Commandant, the Marquis de Montcalm,
and the Seigneur Duvarney. The pistol was in my hand, and I did not
put it down, but struggled to my feet, and waited for them to speak.
For a moment there was silence, and then the Commandant said,
"Your guards have brought me word, Monsieur le Capitaine, that you
are violent.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87