The Huguenot Bartholomew Dupuy and his descendants

STORY OF A HUGUENOT'S SWORD. 109
"Never!" cried Fontaine, drawing his sword;
"I Chap. i .
will die before I am taken!" The
"And your niece you love so—
your betrothed?" Captain
"Oh, my God!" cried Fontaine; "what madness °l?Jf"
goons.
„,,
has possessed me?"
And sinking
hands.
down, he buried his face in his
"Yes, I will fly with you," he said, raising his
head suddenly, "wherever you wish—
anywhere!
Life to me has no longer anything in it to render
of the Lord
it desirable. Were it the good pleasure
I would gladly lay down my miserable existence,
and, dying so, forget the degradation of my country.'
I will fly, then ! Speak ! where shall I go with
my poor child-niece and my betrothed?"
"Good," said Dupuy, coolly; "I will tell you tonight.
At present w^e have to deal with the dragoons.
Here they are."
As he spoke, the company of dragoons, headed
by an officer ciad in a magnificent uniform, thundered
into the court of the chateau. Ferocious,
with heavily bearded faces, and blood-thirsty ex-
these men were fit instruments for the
pressions,
work they were sent to do. They lost no time, and,
at a sign from the officer, half a dozen leaped from
their horses and struck heavy blows upon the
portal.
Dupuy took a small key from his bosom, inserted
it into a hidden orifice of the wainscoting, and the
door of a secret closet flew open. Into this he
pushed Fontaine without ceremony.
"But you— your family," said Fontaine, strugg-
ling to issue forth again.
"I'll take care of that," said Dupuy, coolly.
"Don't fear, companion. Just keep quiet. And
now I must go. Those rascals are breaking down
my door."
With these words Dupuy shut the door of the
closet, and descended the staircase with the firm
tread of a soldier who knows no such sentiment
as fear.