"Po' Cap de Dieu!" swore Castelroux at my elbow. "Saw you ever such
an ado? What has chanced?"
But I never stayed to answer him. Unless I acted quickly blood
would assuredly be shed. I was the one man who could explain
matters, and it was a mercy for Lesperon that I should have been at
hand in the hour of his meeting that fire-eater Marsac. I forgot
the circumstances in which I stood to Castelroux; I forgot
everything but the imminent necessity that I should intervene.
Some seven feet below our window was the roof of the porch; from
that to the ground it might be some eight feet more. Before my
Gascon captain knew what I was about, I had swung myself down from
the window on to the projecting porch. A second later, I created
a diversion by landing in the midst of the courtyard fray, with the
alarmed Castelroux - who imagined that I was escaping - following
by the same unusual road, and shouting as he came "Monsieur de
Lesperon! Hi! Monsieur de Lesperon! Mordieu! Remember your
parole, Monsieur de Lesperon!"
Nothing could have been better calculated to stem Marsac's fury;
nothing could have so predisposed him to lend an ear to what I had
to say, for it was very evident that Castelroux's words were
addressed to me, and that it was I whom he called by the name of
Lesperon. In an instant I was at Marsac's side. But before I
could utter a word, "What the devil does this mean?" he asked,
eyeing me with fierce suspicion.
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