ight. To-morrow we will be married
before the Procureur du Roi; in the evening we leave for England."
"Yes, yes!" she murmured.
"When he comes in I'll engage him in conversation," I continued
hurriedly. "You make a dash for the door and run downstairs as fast as
you can. I'll follow as quickly as may be and meet you under the
porte-cochere."
She had only just time to nod assent when the door which gave on the
sitting-room was pushed open, and Farewell, unconscious at first of
our presence, stepped quietly into the room.
"Estelle," he cried, more puzzled than angry when he suddenly caught
sight of us both, "what are you doing here with that lout?"
I was trembling with excitement--not fear, of course, though Farewell
was a powerful-looking man, a head taller than I was. I stepped boldly
forward, covering the adored one with my body.
"The lout," I said with calm dignity, "has frustrated the machinations
of a knave. To-morrow I go to England in order to place Mademoiselle
Estelle Bachelier under the protection of her legal guardians,
Messieurs Pike and Sons, solicitors, of London."
He gave a cry of rage, and before I could retire to some safe
entrenchment behind the table or the sofa, he was upon me like a mad
dog. He had me by the throat, and I had rolled backwards down on to
the floor, with him on the top of me, squeezing the breath out of me
till I verily thought that my last hour had come. Estelle had run out
of the room like a startled hare. This, of course, was in accordance
with my instructions to her, but I could not help wishing then that
she had been less obedient and somewhat more helpful.
As it was, I was beginning to feel a mere worm in the grip of that
savage scoundrel, whose face I could perceive just above me, distorted
with passion, whilst hoarse ejaculations escaped his trembling lips:
"You meddlesome fool! You oaf! You toad! This for your
interference!" he added as he gave me a vigorous punch on the head.
I felt my senses reeling. My head was swimming, my eyes no longer
could see distinctly. It seemed as if an unbearable pressure upon my
chest would finally squeeze the last breath out of my body.
I was trying to remember the prayers I used to murmur at my mother's
knee, for verily I thought that I was dying, when suddenly, through my
fading senses, came the sound of a long, hoarse cry, whilst the floor
was shaken as with an earthquake. The next moment the pressure on my
chest seeme
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