Begone from it!" When he uttered these terrible words, each of which was like a sword-stroke to the baroness, the old lady, whose courage was not equal to her strength, shrank over the side of her arm-chair, and cried piteously--"He threatens me! he threatens me! I am frightened;" and put up her trembling hands, for the notary's eloquence, being accompanied with abundance of gesture, bordered upon physical violence.

His brutality received an unexpected check.

Imagine that a sparrow-hawk had seized a trembling pigeon, and that a royal falcon swooped, and with one lightning-like stroke of body and wing, buffeted him away, and sent him gaping and glaring and grasping at pigeonless air with his claws.

So swift and majestic, Josephine de Beaurepaire came from her chair with one gesture of her body between her mother and the notary, who was advancing with arms folded in a brutal, menacing way--not the Josephine we have seen her, the calm languid beauty, but the demoiselle de Beaurepaire--her great heart on fire--her blood up--not her own only, but all the blood of all the De Beaurepaires--pale as ashes with great wrath, her purple eyes on fire, and her whole panther-like body full of spring.

"Wretch! you dare to insult her, and before me! Arriere miserable! or I soil my hand with your face." And her hand was up with the word, up, up, higher it seemed than ever a hand was raised before.
And if he had hesitated one moment, I really believe it would have come down; not heavily, perhaps--the lightning is not heavy.