“Mademoiselle,” he said sternly, “I come here by the order of the cardinal, and I must do my duty, though I would gladly do it with all respect to your feelings and your rights, if you will permit me.”
She gazed at him furiously, her head thrown back and her hands toying nervously with a small dagger in her belt.
“Sir musketeer,” she said, “I will resist to the last!”
Péron smiled involuntarily. Her small figure seemed to him no more than a feather in his way, but his chivalry was a mountain, and she was quick to divine it, though his smile made her furious.
“I am sorry, mademoiselle,” he replied quietly. “My orders are to search this house, and I shall execute them.”
“If you dare to do so,” she retorted passionately, “M. de Nançay will have you sent to the Châtelet! Ay, sir, do you think we will endure such insolence? Hark! there is an uproar at the door; ’tis time that some one came to protect women from such intrusion.”
Péron heard the noise too, but he knew that it was only M. de Vesson trying to gain admittance. Mademoiselle meanwhile stood like a young fury, blocking the stairs. He determined to take strong measures.
“André,” he called to the guard at the door, “shoot the first man who forces an entrance!”
Though he affected not to be looking at mademoiselle, he saw her face blanch. She expected her father, not knowing where he was. Péron turned to her with composure.
“Mademoiselle de Nançay,” he said, “if further resistance is offered to the execution of his Majesty’s warrant, and the delay precipitates a quarrel between my men and your father’s, the first man who enters this house will be shot, without respect of persons.”