Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War by G. A. Henty (list of e readers txt) 📖
- Author: G. A. Henty
Book online «Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War by G. A. Henty (list of e readers txt) 📖». Author G. A. Henty
“No, I know a good deal more than I knew then, Chavigny. There were few days when we were in winter quarters that I had not an hour's work in the fencing school with the officers of my regiment, and whenever I heard that there was a professor of the art I have never failed to frequent his salon and to learn his favourite strokes.”
“That is all right, then. We need have no fear whatever as to the result.”
They reached the point fixed upon a minute or two before the clock struck, and just as it chimed de Beauvais and his friends made their appearance. The seconds exchanged a few words and selected a piece of ground for the encounter, the principals at once removed their doublets and faced each other.
“This is a duel a la mort,” de Beauvais said in a loud voice.
“For that I am quite prepared,” Hector said quietly; “but you are likely to find, Monsieur de Beauvais, that it is not so easy a thing to kill the colonel of one of her majesty's regiments as it is to stab a churchman in his carriage.”
De Beauvais at once took up his position, and, without the parade of courtesy that usually preceded an encounter, fell furiously upon Hector. The latter did not give way a step. With a wrist of iron he put aside half a dozen thrusts, and then lunging, ran de Beauvais through the body, his sword hilt striking against his adversary's chest.
De Beauvais' two seconds ran forward as their principal fell. “He is dead,” one said as they knelt over him. Then rising he addressed Hector: “Monsieur le Colonel Campbell,” he said, “I claim satisfaction at your hands, for I take it that your words applied to me as well as to de Beauvais, though addressed only to him.”
“You may take it so,” Hector replied coldly, “for you were also at that house in the Rue St. Honore on that occasion you know of.”
Hector's two seconds endeavoured to interpose, but he said: “Gentlemen, I must ask you to let the matter go on. This is no ordinary duel. These gentlemen, with whom I have no personal animosity, have picked a quarrel with me at the request of one higher in rank than themselves, and are simply his agents. I had no hesitation in killing the first of them, but as Monsieur de Vipont wishes an encounter with me in spite of what he has seen I will give him one, but will content myself with a less severe lesson than that I have given Monsieur de Beauvais. Now, sir, I am at your service.”
De Vipont, knowing now how dangerous an opponent he was meeting, fought cautiously. Hector, however, was anxious to finish the matter before they were interrupted, and therefore took the offensive, and after two passes ran his antagonist through the shoulder.
“Now, Monsieur le Comte, do you desire a turn?” he said carelessly.
The count was pale, but he answered steadily, “I claim it by the same right as Monsieur de Vipont.”
“Agreed,” Hector said; and as soon as the count had removed his upper garments they engaged.
The swords had scarcely clashed when the count's weapon was wrenched from his hand and sent flying for a distance of twenty paces.
“That is enough,” Colonel de Serres said, stepping forward; “you have done what you thought to be your duty, Monsieur le Comte, but it needs very different blades from those of yourself and your companions to stand before Colonel Campbell. He had you at his mercy, and had a right to take your life if he chose; but as he refrained from doing that when you had your sword in your hand, he certainly will not do so now. Messieurs, we wish you good morning.”
“And you may mention,” Hector added, “to this person of high rank, that I shall be happy to accommodate as many of the gentlemen of his following as choose to take the matter up.”
“He will send no more to you, Campbell,” Chavigny said as they moved off, leaving the count, whose valet now ran up, to obtain a vehicle and carry his dead and wounded comrades away.
“No, I fancy not; he will try other means now. The war has only begun. Men like Lei, Brillet, and the Campions are not the sort of men who would act as bravos, even for the Duke of Beaufort, and I do not think that he would even venture to propose it to them. It will be meaner instruments that he will employ next time. However, I shall of course go straight to the cardinal and acquaint him with what has happened. I doubt not but that he will lay the matter before the queen, and then that Beaufort will hear of it; but, passionate and revengeful as he is, I think that he will not be turned from his purpose, even if he knows that he may be forced to retire to his estates, or even leave the country till the matter blows over.”
CHAPTER XXI: THE DUKE'S REVENGE
The cardinal listened gravely to Hector's account of the duel, and of the circumstances that gave rise to it.
“I will go at once to the Louvre and appeal to her majesty,” he said; “you know how warmly she spoke to you on the day when you saved my life. Still, I fear that the sternest reproof, or even an order to retire to his estates, would not turn him from his purpose.”
“I am sure of it, your eminence; still, as I have proved victor in the first battle in the campaign I will bide a second.”
“Mind that you do not get stabbed in the back, colonel.”
“I will beware of that, sir; whenever I walk the streets in future Paolo shall keep a pace behind me, and I warrant that he will protect me from any attempt of that sort.”
“At any rate remain here until I return from the Louvre.”
In an hour Mazarin returned. “The duke has been beforehand with us,” he said. “When I told the queen of what had happened, and why this quarrel had been fastened upon you, she sent at once for the duke, and drew out an order, which I signed, for him to retire at once to his estates; but the royal messenger returned with the news that he had half an hour before ridden away to visit his father at Vendome. A courier will start at once with the order, but I doubt whether he will be found there. It is probable that he has gone to one of his own estates, and it may be some time before we find out where he is. However, it is something that he has gone.”
On his return to the inn Hector told Paolo what had taken place.
“It is a pity that
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