A cloak was thrown over her
head, she was carried to a carriage, where two of you got inside
with her. Some gentlemen and myself were coming that way. We heard
the lady's cries, and two gave chase to the carriage, while one
followed the others. By the help of soldier Gabord here you all
were captured. You have hung where you are for two days, and now
I shall have you whipped. When that is done, you shall tell your
story. If you do not speak truth, you shall be whipped again, and
then hung. Ladies shall have safety from rogues like you."
Alixe's danger told in these concise words made me, I am sure,
turn pale; but Doltaire did not see it, he was engaged with the
prisoners. As I thought and wondered, four soldiers were brought
in, and the men were made ready for the lash. In vain they pleaded
they would tell their story at once. Doltaire would not listen; the
whipping first, and their story after. Soon their backs were bared,
their faces were turned to the wall, and, as Gabord with harsh
voice counted, the lashes were mercilessly laid on. There was a
horrible fascination in watching the skin corrugate under the
lashes, rippling away in red and purple blotches, the grooves in
the flesh crossing and recrossing, the raw misery spreading from
the hips to the shoulders.
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