Rafael Sabatini

“ Simon got in the way I should have flung myself upon him.
“Steady, fool!” snarled Brissac. “I have a deadlier weapon for you than my sword. Monseigneur has a score to settle with you for running away. He will thank any one for the news of your return, and—Mortdieu!—he will be still more grateful for such information as I might impart to him concerning the author of a famous lampoon.” ”

“ Mad with rage, I drew before my uncle could interfere.
“You Judas!” I cried. “Look to yourself!”
The Duke no longer sought to hinder me. He realized that I had no alternative. For a moment Brissac still hesitated.
“M. de Rouvroy,” he expostulated, with an effrontery that was past crediting, “believe me this is unwise. Let us rather——”
“As God lives, sir,” I broke in, “if you do not draw. I'll kill you as you stand.” ”

“ I had it in my heart to wish, as I stood before him now, that I had left the conspirators to carry out their work unmolested, for I knew him too well to expect mercy for the poor poet who had held him up to ridicule, and who had struck so deeply at his pride.
“Have you read the verses?” Richelieu inquired suddenly, holding up a copy of the fateful manuscript.
“I have not, your Eminence,” I answered, without a blush.
“Then do so, Rouvroy,” he said, “if you have the patience, which, indeed, I doubt in a man of your taste. They are abominable drivel. ”

“ If ever a lie stood to a man's credit in the Book of Judgment, surely 'twas that magnanimous lie of the dying duellist.
When the Cardinal was gone, and I had no longer a part to act, I flung myself upon my knees beside the couch, and took De Brissac's hand in mine. ”

“ I ejaculated. “I understand. Brissac has forced the Count to give him his daughter in marriage in exchange for his silence. I left Paris, M. de Presnil, because I was possessed of certain information which, my uncle informs me, my Lord Cardinal will drag from me by torture if he can seize me. But as God lives, monsieur, I shall be back in Paris before the month is out, Cardinal or no Cardinal.”
I left Stockholm that very night, and a week later I set sail from Gottenburg. Another week, and I was landed at Antwerp. Then away—as fast as whip and spur could drive horseflesh—for Paris. ”

“ Suffice it that after we had pledged every man and woman our memories could hit upon as deserving of a toast, and had drunk confusion to the “Red Owl,” by which sobriquet my Lord Cardinal was now popularly known, I took my leave and set out afoot and with unsteady gait, to find my way home and prepare for the morrow's journey. ”

“ But wait, I have not done yet.” Then raising his voice slightly and at great cost, “Monseigneur,” he called, turning his eyes towards Richelieu, “will you deign to approach? There is something that I would say to you concerning 'The Red Owl.'”
The Cardinal started eagerly at the words, then moved to the side of the dying man.
St. Simon shut a sharp, eloquent glance at me as I stood there, mute and despairing, to hear my death sentence. Then Brissac's low voice broke the silence.
“I was to have married Mademoiselle de Remy,” he began. “My friend, Claude de Rouvroy, learnt this at Stockholm. ”

“ You can send them back when you reach Stockholm. As for yourself, you will no doubt find sufficient interest at the Swedish court to detain you there until this affair is forgotten, or until I summon you to Paris. You understand?”
“Perfectly. How can I show my gratitude?”
He gazed at me for a moment with a twinkle in his roguish old eye.
“Hum—by writing no more poetry,” he answered dryly.
When a few moments later I rejoined Valençon and the others, I was as blithe as a lark at dawn. Now, when a man is merry, he is wont to be thirsty besides ”