"What! not speak of it when the recollection of your bravery and devotion is the only consolation I have when I see you lying here. No, the most determined resistance I ever read of paled beside yours. Entrenched in the doorway, the iron bar became a formidable weapon in your hands, and though your defective vision prevented you from aiming your blows very accurately, those who came within reach of your arm fell at your feet, one by one."
"How terrified Mlle. Sabine must have been! Timid as she is, she must have died a thousand deaths during that brief struggle."
"You are very much mistaken, my friend. The courage and strength of character she displayed in that trying hour amazed me. I can see her now standing there pale but resolute. Her first words were: 'Thank God, I shall die alone, my father is absent.' Then, pointing to you, she said, exultantly: 'Do you admit that he is brave now? He is confronting death unflinchingly for our sakes, but we shall at least perish with him.' And when, overpowered, by numbers, you were at last struck down, and four of the men, the leader with his arm in a sling, burst into the room, she showed even greater heroism. 'Onésime is dead!' she exclaimed. 'It is our turn now! Farewell, Suzanne,' she added, clasping me in her arms, and murmuring, softly, 'Farewell, dear father, farewell.'"
"Loving and courageous to the last!" exclaimed Onésime, with tears both in his voice and eyes.
"I felt much less resigned. I had just seen you fall bleeding across the threshold, and I threw myself at the feet of the leader, begging for mercy. With a gesture he commanded the men to pause, and then, turning to me, demanded, in a threatening voice: 'Where is Captain l'Endurci?'"
"Captain l'Endurci?" repeated Onésime, in great surprise. "Why did they come here to look for Captain l'Endurci? Besides, these men were Englishmen. I remember now."
"I will explain presently. When the leader of the party asked where Captain l'Endurci was, I replied: 'This house belongs to M. Cloarek. He is absent from home. This is his daughter. Have pity on her.'
"'His daughter!' exclaimed the man, with a ferocious laugh. 'So this is his daughter, is it? So much the better! And you,—are you his wife?'
"'No, I am only the housekeeper.'
"'So this is his daughter,' he repeated again, approaching poor mademoiselle, whose courage seemed to increase with the danger, for, with both hands crossed upon her breast, like a saint, she looked the leader of the bandits straight in the eye.