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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"From the Memoirs of a Minister of France"

By that time we were through the gorge, and I
gave the word to pull up, that we might listen and learn whether
we were pursued. Before the order had quite brought us to a
standstill, however, two figures on a sudden rose out of the
darkness before us and barred the way. I was riding in the front
rank, abreast of Parabere and La Font, and I had just time to lay
my hand on a pistol when one of the figures spoke.
"Well, M. le Capitaine, what luck?" he cried, advancing, and
drawing rein to turn with us.
I saw his mistake, and, raising my hand to check those behind,
muttered in my beard that all had gone well.
"You got the man?"
"Yes," I said, peering at him through the darkness.
"Good!" he answered. "Then now for Bareilles, supper, and a
full purse; and afterwards, for me, the quietest corner of
France! The King will make a fine outcry, and I do not trust one
gov--"
In a flash Parabere had him by the throat, and dragged him in a
grip of iron on to the withers of his horse. Still he managed to
utter a cry, and the other rascal, taking the alarm, whipped his
horse round, and in a second got a start of twenty paces.


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