Prev | Current Page 226 | Next

Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"Bardelys the Magnificent; being an account of the strange wooing pursued by the Sieur Marcel de Saint-Pol, marquis of Bardelys..."


Behind them on the steps I caught sight of a group of domestics,
old Anatole standing slightly in advance of his fellows, and
wondering, no doubt, whether this were, indeed, the bedraggled
Lesperon of a little while ago - for if I had thought of pomp in
the display of my lacqueys, no less had I considered it in the
decking of my own person. Without any of the ribbons and fopperies
that mark the coxcomb, yet was I clad, plumed, and armed with a
magnificence such as I'll swear had not been seen within the grey
walls of that old castle in the lifetime of any of those that were
now present.
Gilles leapt from his horse as I drew rein, and hastened to hold my
stirrup, with a murmured "Monsieur," which title drew a fresh
astonishment into the eyes of the beholders.
I advanced leisurely towards Saint-Eustache, and addressed him with
such condescension as I might a groom, to impress and quell a man
of this type your best weapon is the arrogance that a nobler spirit
would resent.
"A world of odd meetings this, Saint-Eustache," I smiled disdainfully.
"A world of strange comings and goings, and of strange transformations.
The last time we were here we stood mutually as guests of Monsieur le
Vicomte; at present you appear to be officiating as a - a tipstaff."
"Monsieur!" He coloured, and he uttered the word in accents of
awakening resentment. I looked into his eyes, coldly, impassively,
as if waiting to hear what he might have to add, and so I stayed
until his glance fell and his spirit was frozen in him.


Pages:
214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238