"Well, you rascal," said the duke, after staring for a moment in
astonishment at this odd-looking specimen, "what does this mean? Are you
offering alms to me, pray, or what? with your purse there held out at
arm's length, apparently for my acceptance."
"In the first place, my lord duke," said Lampourde, with perfect
sang-froid and gravity, "may it not displease your highness, but I am
not a rascal. My name is Jacquemin Lampourde, and I ply the sword for a
living. My profession is an honourable one. I have never degraded myself
by taking part in trade of any kind, or by manual labour. Killing is my
business, at the risk of my own life and limb--for I always do my work
alone, unaided, armed only with my trusty sword. Fair play is a jewel,
and I would scorn to take a mean advantage of anybody. I always give
warning before I attack a man, and let him have a chance to defend
himself--having a horror of treachery, and cowardly, sneaking ways. What
profession could be more noble than mine, pray? I am no common, brutal
assassin, my lord duke, and I beseech your lordship to take back that
offensive epithet, which I could never accept, save in a friendly,
joking way--it outrages too painfully the sensitive delicacy of my
amour-propre, my lord!"
"Very well, so be it, Maitre Jacquemin Lampourde, since you desire it,"
answered Vallombreuse, very much amused at the oddity of his strange
visitor.
Pages:
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452