The Knight of Malta. Эжен Сю
master, I dare not,” replied Little John, getting behind the recorder.
“Do you hear me, you wretch?”
“Yes, sir, but I dare not; there is some sorcery there.”
“But, on my oath, if you – ”
“If the salvation of my soul depended on it, sir, I would not open it,” said Little John, in a resolute tone.
“Come, come!” said the recorder, overcome with vexation, as he addressed the halberdiers, “it will be said, my brave fellows, that you alone acted as men in this stupid affair! Open that door, and put an end to this ridiculous scene.”
The two guards retreated a step, and one of them said:
“Listen, Master Isnard, we are here to give you assistance as far as we are able, if any one rebels against your orders, but no one forbids you to enter. The key is in the door; enter alone, if you wish to do so.”
“What, an old pandour like you afraid!”
The halberdier shook his head, and said:
“Listen, Master Isnard, halberds and swords are worth nothing here; what we need is a priest with his stole, and a holy water sprinkler in his hand.”
“Michael is right, Master Isnard,” said the other guard; “it is my opinion that we will have to do what was done to exorcise the dolphins that infested the coast last year.”
“If that dog of a Bohemian had not run away like a coward,” said the recorder, stamping his foot with rage, “he might have opened the door.”
Then, happening to turn his head, the recorder discovered several men and women standing at the windows of Maison-Forte; they were partially hidden by the basement, but were looking curiously into the court.
More from self-esteem than courage, Master Isnard, seeing that he was observed by so many persons, walked deliberately to the door, and put his hand on the key.
At that moment his heart failed him.
He heard in the magazine a rumbling noise and extraordinary excitement, which he had not detected before.
The sounds were harsh, with nothing human in them.
A magic charm seemed to fasten the recorder’s hand to the key in the door.
“Come, recorder, my boy, go on! there you are! go on!” cried one of the guests, clapping his hands.
“I wager he is as warm as if it were the month of August, although the wind is blowing from the north,” said another.
“Give him time to invoke his patron and make a vow,” said a third.
“His patron is St. Coward,” said the lord of Signerol; “no doubt he is making a vow never to brave another danger if he delivers him from this one.”
Pushed to extremity by these jeers, and reflecting that, after all, Raimond V. was not so cruel as to force him into real danger, the recorder opened the door, and suddenly jumped back.
At that moment he was roughly overthrown by the onset of two Camargnan bulls, that rushed from the stable, head downward, and uttering a peculiar and stifled bellowing, for they were muzzled.
The two animals were not of very large size, but were full of vigour.
One was tawny, streaked with dark brown; the other was black as jet.
The first use they made of their liberty was to bound over the court, paw the earth with their fore feet, and try to divest themselves of their muzzles.
The appearance of the two bulls was greeted with hurrahs and bravos by the guests of the baron.
“Eh, well, recorder, your inventory?” cried Raimond V., holding his sides, and giving full vent to his hilarity. “Come, clerk, enter upon your official report my bulls, Nicolin and Saturnin. Ah! you demand the arms that I possess, – there they are. It is with the horns of these fellows from Camargne that I defend myself. Eh, Man-jour! I see by your fear that you recognise them as arms, serious and offensive. Come, recorder, label Nicolin, and draw up Saturnin.”
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