You have resisted them, and have threatened them with
their own pistols."
"With one pistol, monsieur le commandant," answered I. Then, in
bitter words, I told them of my treatment by those rascals, and
I showed them how my ankle had been tortured. "I have no fear of
death," said I, "but I will not lie and let dogs bite me with
'I thank you.' Death can come but once, it is a damned brutality
to make one die a hundred and yet live--the work of Turks, not
Christians. If you want my life, why, take it and have done."
The Marquis de Montcalm whispered to the Commandant. The Seigneur
Duvarney, to whom I had not yet spoken, nor he to me, stood
leaning against the wall, gazing at me seriously and kindly.
Presently Ramesay, the Commandant, spoke, not unkindly: "It was
ordered you should wear chains, but not that you should be
maltreated. A surgeon shall be sent to you, and this chain shall
be taken from your ankle. Meanwhile, your guards shall be changed."
I held out the pistol, and he took it. "I can not hope for justice
here," said I, "but men are men, and not dogs, and I ask for human
usage till my hour comes and my country is your jailer."
The Marquis smiled, and his gay eyes sparkled.
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