Down through the palace garden they sped, she gasping and stumbling in
nightmare flight, he strongly upholding her, till half a dozen revolver
shots pierced the infuriated uproar behind them and something that
burned with a red-hot agony struck her left hand. She cried out
involuntarily, and Pierre ceased his headlong rush for safety.
"You are hit?" he questioned. "Where?"
But she could not answer him, could not so much as stand. His voice
seemed to come from an immense distance. She hardly heard his words. She
was sinking, sinking into a void unfathomable.
He did not stay to question further. Abruptly he stooped, gathered her
up, slung her across his shoulder, and ran on.
V
When Stephanie opened her eyes again the sound of the sea was in her
ears, and she felt as if she must have heard it for some time. She was
lying in a chair amid surroundings wholly strange to her, and some
one--a man whose face she could not see--was beside her, bending over a
table, evidently engaged upon something that occupied his most minute
attention. She watched him dreamily for a little, till the immense
breadth of his shoulders struck a quick-growing fear into her heart;
then she made a sudden effort to raise herself.
Instantly she was stabbed by a dart of pain so acute that she barely
repressed a cry.
"Keep still, mademoiselle!" It was Pierre's voice; he spoke without
turning.
Pages:
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348