s grasp.

A smile of triumph brightened the gloomy features of M. d'Aulney, as he
met the eye of his proud and defeated enemy; but La Tour returned it by
a glance of haughty defiance, which fully expressed the bitterness of
his chafed and unsubdued feelings. He then turned to his humbled
followers, and surveyed them with a look of angry contempt, beneath
which, the boldest shrunk abashed.

"Cowards!" he exclaimed, yielding to his indignation; "fear ye to meet
my eye? would that its lightnings could blast ye, perjured and recreant
that ye are! ay, look upon the ground, which should have drank your
heart's blood before it witnessed your disgrace; look not on me, whom
you have betrayed--look not on the banner of your country, which you
have stained by this day's cowardice!"

A low murmur rose from the rebuked and sullen soldiers; and D'Aulney,
fearing some disturbance, commanded silence, and ordered his people to
prepare for instant march.

"For you, St. Etienne, lord of la Tour," he said, "it shall be my care
to provide a place of security, till the pleasure of our lawful
sovereign is made known concerning you."

"To that sovereign I willingly appeal," replied La Tour; "and, if a
shadow of justice lingers around his throne, the rights which you have
presumed to arrogate will be restored to me, and my authority
established on a basis, which you will not venture to dispute."

"Let the writ of proscription be first revoked," said D'Aulney, with a
sneer; "let the names of rebel, and traitor, be blotted from your
escutcheon, before you appeal to that justice, or reclaim an authority
which has been long since annulled."

"False, and mean-spirited!" exclaimed La Tour, scornfully; "you stoop to
insult a prisoner, who is powerless in your hands, but from whose
indignation you would cower, like the guilty thing you are, had I
liberty and my good sword to revenge your baseness! Go, use me as you
will, use me as you _dare_, M. d'Aulney, but remember the day of
vengeance may ere long arrive."

"_My_ day of vengeance _has_ arrived," returned D'Aulney, and his eye
flashed with rage; "and you will rue the hour in which you provoked my
slumbering wrath."

"Your wrath has _never_ slumbered," replied La Tour, "and my hatred to
you will mingle with the last throb of my existence. Like an evil demon,
you have followed me through life; you blighted the hopes of my
youth,--the interests and ambition of my manhood have been thwarted b