Man is not made of stone, and I loved this woman as my life. There was that in her voice, in the pitiful appeal of its tones, that broke down all my false pride. I cannot say how it happened, but in a moment my arm was round her waist, and I drew her towards me, she nothing resisting.
'Claude, I love you. Give me the right to protect you.'
What she said is for my ears alone; and then she lay still and passive in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder.
So for a time we stood in silence, and then I kissed her.
'Come, dear,' I said, 'and with the morning we shall be safe.'
Of her own accord she put her arms about my neck and pressed her lips to mine, and then I lifted my darling to Couronne's saddle bow.
Had I but taken de Belin's offer! If Jacques were but with me then!
My foot was in the stirrup, my hand on the reins, when there was a sudden flash, a loud report, and my poor horse fell forward, floundering in the agony of death.
I just managed to snatch Claude from the saddle, and staggered back, and then with a rush a half-dozen men were on us. They were masked to a man, and made their attack in a perfect silence; but as my sword flashed out of my scabbard I recognised the tall figure of the Capuchin, and thrust at him fiercely, with a curse at my folly in coming alone.
Things like these take a short time in doing, and should take a shorter time in telling. I ran one man through the heart, and with a gasp he fell forwards and twisted himself like a snake round my blade. Then someone flung a cloak over my head—I was overborne by numbers and thrown. Two or three men held me down; there was an iron grip at my throat, and a man's knee pressed heavily on my chest. I made a frantic effort to free myself: the covering slipped from my face, and I saw it was the Capuchin kneeling over me, a dagger in his hand. His mask had fallen from him, and his face was the face of Ravaillac!