alyze the double attack of the old man, who tried to
stab him with his dagger, and the mother of the young man, who was
endeavoring to break his skull with a stone she was ready to throw,
seized his adversary by the body, presenting him to all the blows, like
a shield, and well-nigh strangling him in his Herculean grasp.

"Help! help!" cried the young man; "he is crushing my chest--help!
help!"

And his voice grew faint in a low and choking groan.

Then Mercandon ceased to attack, and began to entreat.

"Mercy, mercy! Monsieur de Coconnas, have mercy!--he is my only child!"

"He is my son, my son!" cried the mother; "the hope of our old age! Do
not kill him, sir,--do not kill him!"

"Really," cried Coconnas, bursting into laughter, "not kill him! What,
pray, did he mean to do to me, with his sword and pistol?"

"Sir," said Mercandon, clasping his hands, "I have at home your father's
note of hand, I will give it back to you--I have ten thousand crowns of
gold, I will give them to you--I have our family jewels, they shall be
yours; but do not kill him--do not kill him!"

"And I have my love," said the lady in the Hotel de Guise, in a low
tone, "and I promise it you."

Coconnas reflected a moment, and said suddenly:

"Are you a Huguenot?"

"Yes, I am," murmured the youth.

"Then you must die!" replied Coconnas, frowning and putting to his
adversary's breast his keen and glittering dagger.

"Die!" cried the old man; "my poor child die!"

And the mother's shriek resounded so pitifully and loud that for a
moment it shook the Piedmontese's firm resolution.

"Oh, Madame la Duchesse!" cried the father, turning toward the lady at
the Hotel de Guise, "intercede for us, and every morning and evening you
shall be remembered in our prayers."

"Then let him be a convert," said the lady.

"I am a Protestant," said the boy.

"Then die!" exclaimed Coconnas, lifting his dagger; "die! since you will
not accept the life which those lovely lips offer to you."

Mercandon and his wife saw the blade of that deadly weapon gleam like
lightning above the head of their son.

"My son Olivier," shrieked his mother, "abjure, abjure!"

"Abjure, my dear boy!" cried Mercandon, going on his knees to Coconnas;
"do not leave us alone on the earth!"

"Abjure all together," said Coconnas; "for one _Credo_, three souls and
one life."

"I am willing," said the youth.

"We are willing!" cried Mercandon and his wife.

"On your knee