If you assure
him that an honest friend has told you so and so, he may doubt you, but
tell him that God tells you, and he will swallow your hook. If you would
have your lie believed, tell a great one.
Charles, more credulous and gullible than I should have believed, turned
to Hymbercourt. He spoke reverentially, being, you understand, in the
presence of a miracle:--
"This is a wondrous happening, my lord," said the duke.
"If it happened, Your Grace," returned Hymbercourt, "it certainly was
marvellous."
"Don't you think it did happen? Do not you believe that this bolt came
from the hand that was seen by these worthy friars?" asked the duke.
"The shaft surely did not come from a just God, my lord," returned
Hymbercourt.
"Whence, then, did it come?" asked the duke. "No arquebuse has been
found, and a careful scrutiny has been made."
"Aye!" echoed the friars. "Whence else did it come? Whence, my Lord
d'Hymbercourt, whence?"
I had noticed our Irish servant Michael standing near one of the friars.
At this point in the conversation the Irishman plucked me by the sleeve,
pointed to a friar, and whispered a word in my ear. Like a stone from a
catapult I sprang on the friar indicated, threw him to the ground, and
drew from under his black cassock an arquebuse.
"Here is the shaft from God!" I exclaimed, holding the arquebuse up to
view. Then I kneeled on the prostrate wretch and clutched his throat.
Anger gathered in my brain as lightning clusters about a mountain top.
Pages:
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298