“God’s blood!” he cried, “but you sleep soundly! Here, get up and eat. You will need your strength this day!”
I got to my feet and looked at him.
“And why?” I questioned, as carelessly as I could, for there was a menace in his words that startled me.
“Because you are to have a little interview with Mother Brodequin and others of her family.”
“Mother Brodequin?” I repeated.
“Yes,” and he bent over towards one foot and made a gesture as of tightening a screw. “You understand? ’Tis our pet name for her. She is not lovely to look at, but she has a tight embrace.”
I understood, and I found my craving for the food suddenly vanished. I protest I am no coward—but the boot—the rack—I knew not what horrors lay before me. ’Twas enough to chill the courage of any man. Still, I made pretence of eating that Drouet might not see my terror.
“I heard some shots last night,” I said at last. “Was there an attack?”
“Hardly that,” he laughed. “Cadillac tried to crawl up the road, but was soon glad to scuttle down again. He will not try it a second time unless he is madder than I think him.”
“But he gained the town,” I said.