‘Yes,’ I said, ‘for a short time, among cowards and rogues.’
Armand howled at the word cowards.
‘Cowards, yes,’ I said, ‘who must needs get a company of soldiers to overcome one woman.’
I saw a good long scratch on Lamont’s face just then, and I flattered myself that it was due to Nan’s nails. They all beset me, Lamont at my feet, pleading the force of his passion, entreating with all the exaggeration of the current language; the Abbe arguing about the splendid position I should secure for my son and myself, and the way I should be overthrown if I held out against the Prince; d’Aubepine raging and threatening. I had lost myself already, by my absence and goings on, the estate; the Prince had but to speak the word, and I should be in the Bastille.
‘Let him,’ I said.
‘It is of no use to dally with her,’ cried Armand. ‘I will hold her while the rite is performed.’
I looked at him. I was quite as tall as he, and, I believe, quite as strong; at any rate he quailed, and called out:
‘Have you any spirit, Lamont? Here, one of you fellows, come and help to hold her.’
‘At your peril!’ I said. ‘Gentlemen, I am the widow of your brave officer, Captain de Bellaise, killed at Freibourg. Will you see this wrong done?’
‘I command you, as your officer—forward!’ he said; and though one wavered, the others stepped forward.