"You have heard," he said. "Do you blame us?"

"I cannot," the minister answered, shivering. "I cannot." He had been

for a while beyond the range of these feelings; and in the greenwood,

under God's heaven, with the sunshine about him, they jarred on him. Yet

he could not blame men who had suffered as these had suffered; who were

maddened, as these were maddened, by the gravest wrongs which it is

possible for one man to inflict on another. "I dare not," he continued

sorrowfully. "But in God's name I offer you a higher and a nobler

errand."

"We need none," Tignonville muttered impatiently.

"Yet many others need you," La Tribe answered in a tone of rebuke. "You

are not aware that the man you follow bears a packet from the King for

the hands of the magistrates of Angers?"

"Ha! Does he?"

"Bidding them do at Angers as his Majesty has done in Paris?"

The men broke into cries of execration. "But he shall not see Angers!"

they swore. "The blood that he has shed shall choke him by the way! And

as he would do to others it shall be done to him."

La Tribe shuddered as he listened, as he looked. Try as he would, the

thirst of these men for vengeance appalled him.

"How?" he said. "He has a score and more with him and you are only six."

"Seven now," Tignonville answered with a smile.

"True, but--"

"And he lies to-night at La Fleche? That is so?"

"It was his intention this morning."

"At the old King's Inn at the meeting of the great roads?"

"It was mentioned," La Tribe admitted, with a reluctance he did not

comprehend. "But if the night be fair he is as like as not to lie in the

fields."

One of the men pointed to the sky. A dark bank of cloud fresh risen from

the ocean, and big with tempest, hung low in the west.

"See! God will deliver him into our hands!" he cried.

Tignonville nodded. "If he lie there," he said, "He will." And then to

one of his followers, as he dismounted, "Do you ride on," he said, "and

stand guard that we be not surprised. And do you, Perrot, tell Monsieur.

Perrot here, as God wills it," he added, with the faint smile which did

not escape the minister's eye, "married his wife from the great inn at La

Fleche, and he knows the place."

"None better," the man growled. He was a sullen, brooding knave, whose

eyes when he looked up surprised by their savage fire.

La Tribe shook his head. "I know it, too," he said. "'Tis strong as a

fortress, with a walled court, and all the windows look inwards. The

gates are closed an hour after sunset, no matter who is without. If you

think, M. de Tignonville, to take him there--"




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