It may have been a half-hour later, and, our meal being at an end,
we were sitting talking - I growing impatient the while that this
Monsieur de Marsac should keep me waiting so - when of a sudden the
rattle of hoofs drew me once more to the window. A gentleman,
riding very recklessly, had just dashed through the porte-cochere,
and was in the act of pulling up his horse. He was a lean, active
man, very richly dressed, and with a face that by its swarthiness
of skin and the sable hue of beard and hair looked almost black.
"Ah, you are there!" he cried, with something between a snarl and
a laugh, and addressing somebody within the shelter of the porch.
"Par la mort Dieu, I had hardly looked to find you!"
From the recess of the doorway I heard a gasp of amazement and a
cry of "Marsac! You here?"
So this was the gentleman I was to see! A stable boy had taken his
reins, and he leapt nimbly to the ground. Into my range of vision
hobbled now the enfeebled gentleman whom earlier I had noticed.
"My dear Stanislas!" he cried, "I cannot tell you how rejoiced I am
to see you!" and he approached Marsac with arms that were opened as
if to embrace him.
The newcomer surveyed him a moment in wonder, with eyes grown dull.
Then abruptly raising his hand, he struck the fellow on the breast,
and thrust him back so violently that but for the stable-boy's
intervention he had of a certainty fallen. With a look of startled
amazement on his haggard face, the invalid regarded his assailant.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137