My friends, I am, as you know, a man steeled to face every danger. When
one has served from the affair of Zurich to that last fatal day of
Waterloo, and has had the special medal, which I keep at home in a
leathern pouch, one can afford to confess when one is frightened. It may
console some of you, when your own nerves play you tricks, to remember
that you have heard even me, Brigadier Gerard, say that I have been
scared. And besides my terror at this horrible attack, and the maddening
pain of my wound, there was a sudden feeling of loathing such as you
might feel were some filthy tarantula to strike its fangs into you.

I clutched the creature in both hands, and, hurling him on to the floor
of the coach, I stamped on him with my heavy boots. He had drawn a
pistol from the front of his soutane, but I kicked it out of his hand,
and again I fell with my knees upon his chest. Then, for the first time,
he screamed horribly, while I, half blinded, felt about for the sword
which he had so cunningly concealed. My hand had just lighted upon it,
and I was dashing the blood from my face to see where he lay that I
might transfix him, when the whole coach turned partly over upon its
side, and my weapon was jerked out of my grasp by the shock.

Before I could recover myself the door was burst open, and I was
dragged by the heels on to the road. But even as I was torn out on to
the flint stones, and realized that thirty ruffians were standing around
me, I was filled with joy, for my pelisse had been pulled over my head
in the struggle and was covering one of my eyes, and it was with my
wounded eye that I was seeing this gang of brigands. You see for
yourself by this pucker and scar how the thin blade passed between
socket and ball, but it was only at that moment, when I was dragged from
the coach, that I understood that my sight was not gone for ever. The
creature's intention, doubtless, was to drive it through into my brain,