Here at
Blagnac the landlord, Rodenard informed me, was also in
Saint-Eustache's pay. Their intention was to stab me as I slept.
"Monseigneur," he ended, "knowing what danger awaited you along the
road, I have sat up all night, praying God and His saints that you
might come this far, and that thus I might warn you. Had I been
less bruised and sore, I had got myself a horse and ridden out to
meet you; as it was, I could but hope and pray that you would reach
Blagnac, and that--"
I gathered him into my arms at that, but my embrace drew a groan
from him, for the poor, faithful knave was very sore.
"My poor Ganymede!" I murmured, and I was more truly moved to
sympathy, I think, than ever I had been in all my selfish life.
Hearing his sobriquet, a look of hope gleamed suddenly in his eye.
"You will take me back, monseigneur?" he pleaded. "You will take
me back, will you not? I swear that I will never let my tongue--"
"Sh, my good Ganymede. Not only will I take you back, but I shall
strive to make amends for my brutality. Come, my friend, you shall
have twenty golden Louis to buy unguents for your poor shoulders."
"Monseigneur is very good," he murmured, whereupon I would have
embraced him again but that he shivered and drew back.
"No, no, monseigneur," he whispered fearfully. "It is a great
honour, but it - it pains me to be touched."
"Then take the will for the deed. And now for these gentlemen below
stairs.
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