"Yes," he was sure that he would succeed: "I shall get his secret by
promising pardon; then I will spit upon his face and say, 'Die, dog;
I'll not spare you.'" So forth he sallied, and made his way to the
cell where the young man sat in chains.
"Well, malignant tyrant, what do you here? Whatever your business
is, let it be dispatched quickly; for your presence stifles me. What
dishonourable proposal have you now to make?"
"Monsieur Stephens, it seems to be a pleasure to you to revile me.
Yet have I sought to serve you;--yea, I would have been, would now
be, your friend."
"Peace; let me hear what it is that you now propose?"
"You are aware that it is ordered by court-martial, of which I was
not a member, that you are to be shot at one o'clock this day? It is
now just forty-five minutes of one. I can spare your life, and I will
do it, upon one condition."
"Pray let me hear what dishonour it is that you propose? I ask the
question out of a curiosity to learn, if possible, a little more of
your infamy."
"And I reply to you that I shall take no notice of your revilings,
but make my proposal. I simply ask you to state to me where this
maiden Annette has betaken herself?"
"Where you will never find her. That's my answer, villain and
tyrant; and now begone."
"Perhaps you imagine that the sentence will not be carried out. I
ask you to choose between life and liberty, and an almost immediate
ignominious death."
"I care not for your revenge, or your mercy. Once more I say, get
you gone." Then the ruffian turned round, rushed at the chained
prisoner, and dealt him a terrific kick in the side, after which he
spat upon his face.
"She shall be mine!" he hissed, "when your corpse lies mouldering in
a dishonoured, traitor's grave." The young man was chained to a heavy
table, but with a sudden wrench, he freed himself, raised both arms,
and was about bringing down his manacled hands upon the tyrant
miscreant--and that blow would have ended the rebellion at Prince
Albert,--when Luc burst into the room, seized the prisoner, and threw
him. While his brute knee was on Stephens' breast, and his greasy
hand held the victim's throat, Riel made his escape, and turned back
to his own quarters.
As for poor Stephens, when the tyrant and the brutal guard had left
the cell, he began to pace up and down, sorely disturbed. He had
somehow cherished the hope that the miscreant would be induced to
commute the sentence to lengthy imprisonment. But the diabolical
vengeance which he had seen in the tyrant's eye undermined all hope.
Some friends were admitted to his cell, and they informed him that
they had pleaded for him, but in vain.