nually with fierce
eyes, and we felt that she was tortured by a wild longing for revenge.
That seemed to us to be the most suitable punishment for the terrible
torments that she had made Piedelot suffer, for impotent vengeance is
such intense pain!
Alas! we who knew how to avenge our comrade ought to have thought that
this woman would know how to avenge her husband, and have been on our
guard. It is true that one of us kept watch every night, and that
at first we tied her by a long rope to the great oak bench that was
fastened to the wall. But, by and by, as she had never tried to escape,
in spite of her hatred for us, we relaxed our extreme prudence, and
allowed her to sleep somewhere else except on the bench, and without
being tied. What had we to fear? She was at the end of the room, a man
was on guard at the door, and between her and the sentinel the captain's
wife and two other men used to lie. She was alone and unarmed against
four, so there could be no danger.
One night when we were asleep, and the captain was on guard, the
lancer's wife was lying more quietly in her corner than usual, and
she had even smiled for the first time since she had been our prisoner
during the evening. Suddenly, however, in the middle of the night, we
were all awakened by a terrible cry. We got up, groping about, and at
once stumbled over a furious couple who were rolling about and fighting
on the ground. It was the captain and the lancer's wife. We threw
ourselves on them, and separated them in a moment. She was shouting and
laughing, and he seemed to have the death rattle. All this took place
in the dark. Two of us held her, and when a light was struck a terrible
sight met our eyes. The captain was lying on the floor in a pool of
blood, with an enormous gash in his throat, and his sword bayonet, that
had been taken from his rifle, was sticking in the red, gaping wound. A
few minutes afterward he died, without having been able to utter a word.
His wife did not shed a tear. Her eyes were dry, her throat was
contracted, and she looked at the lancer's wife steadfastly, and with a
calm ferocity that inspired fear.
"This woman belongs to me," she said to us suddenly. "You swore to me
not a week ago to let me kill her as I chose, if she killed my husband;
and you must keep your oath. You must fasten her securely to the
fireplace, upright against the back of it, and then you can go where you
like, but far from here. I will take my rev
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