Yet at that moment such nervous power did I gather from my rage, that I swung him from his feet as though he had been the puniest weakling.

I dragged him down on to the table, and there I ground his face with a most excellent good-will and relish.
"You liar, you cheat, you thief!" I snarled like any cross-grained mongrel.

"The King shall hear of this, you knave! By God, he shall!" They dragged me from him at last--those lapdogs that attended him--and with much rough handling they sent me sprawling among the sawdust on the floor.

It is more than likely that but for Castelroux's intervention they had made short work of me there and then.
But with a bunch of Mordieus, Sangdieus, and Po' Cap de Dieus, the little Gascon flung himself before my prostrate figure, and bade them in the King's name, and at their peril, to stand back.
Chatellerault, sorely shaken, his face purple, and with blood streaming from his nostrils, had sunk into a chair.

He rose now, and his first words were incoherent, raging gasps.
"What is your name, sir ?" he bellowed at last, addressing the Captain.
"Amedee de Mironsac de Castelroux, of Chateau Rouge in Gascony," answered my captor, with a grand manner and a flourish, and added, "Your servant." "What authority have you to allow your prisoners this degree of freedom ?" "I do not need authority, monsieur," replied the Gascon.
"Do you not ?" blazed the Count.