He assured me that resistance was
utterly useless, that bets had passed at the Prince's court on the
Englishwoman's being subdued by Lamont before mid-night, and the
Prince himself had staked, I know not how much, against those who
believed in my obstinacy. Therefore Armand d'Aubepine, who was
flushed with wine, and not in the least able to perceive how
contemptible he was, urged me to yield with the best grace I could,
since there was no help for it. And so saying he suddenly pinioned
both my arms with his own.
No help! Was there no help in Heaven above, or earth below? Was my
dragoon on his way?
The doors opened. Again the Abbe opened his book.
'Brave dragoons!' I cried out; 'if there be not a man among you who
will stir a hand to save me, bear witness that I, Margaret de
Ribaumont, widow of Philippe de Bellaise, your own officer, protest
against this shameful violence. Whatever is here done is null and
void, and shall be made known to M. l'Abbe's superiors.'
There was a dead pause. Then Lamont whispered something to the
priest, who began again. I felt Armand's held relaxing, and making a
sudden struggle, I shook myself free with such force that he
staggered back, while I bounded forward and snatched the book from
the priest's hand, throwing it on the floor, and then, regaining once
more the statue of St. Margaret, I stood grasping her with one arm
with desperate energy, while I cried: 'A moi, soldiers of Freibourg!'
'Drag her away,' said d'Aubepine to the men.
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