Page 118 (1/2)

"But you fear him?"

"Fear him?" Madame St Lo answered; and, to the surprise of the Countess,

she made a little face of contempt "No; why should I fear hi at old Sancho's bridle fears his tall

playfellow! Or than the cloud you see above us fears the wind before

which it flies!" She pointed to a white patch, the size of aabove the hill on their left hand and formed the only speck in

the blue suaily, she put

her horse at a narrow rivulet which crossed the grassy track on which

they rode

"But he is hard?" the Countess ained

her coesture of pride "Ay, hard as the

stones in ! Hard as flint, or the nether millstone--to

his enemies! But to women? Bah! Who ever heard that he hurt a woman?"

"Why, then, is he so feared?" the Countess asked, her eyes on the subject

of their discussion--a solitary figure riding some fifty paces in front

of them

"Because he counts no cost!" her companion answered "Because he killed

Savillon in the court of the Louvre, though he knew his life the forfeit

He would have paid the forfeit too, or lost his right hand, if Monsieur,

for his brother the Marshal's sake, had not intervened But Savillon had

whipped his dog, you see Then he killed the Chevalier de Millaud, but