Count Hannibal

"And you, by your leave," Tavannes sneered, "are--"

"Archdeacon and Vicar of the Bishop of Angers and Prior of the Lesser

Brethren of St. Germain, M. le Comte. Visitor also of the Diocese of

Angers," the dignitary continued, puffing out his cheeks, "and Chaplain

to the Lieutenant-Governor of Saumur, whose unworthy brother I am."

"A handsome glove, and well embroidered!" Tavannes retorted in a tone of

disdain. "The hand I see yonder!" He pointed to the lean parchment mask

of Father Pezelay, who coloured ever so faintly, but held his peace under

the sneer. "You are bound for Angers?" Count Hannibal continued. "For

what purpose, Sir Prior?"

"His Grace the Bishop is absent, and in his absence--"

"You go to fill his city with strife! I know you! Not you!" he

continued, contemptuously turning from the Prior, and regarding the third

of the principal figures of the party. "But you! You were the Cure who

got the mob together last All Souls'."

"I speak the words of Him Who sent me!" answered the third Churchman,

whose brooding face and dull curtained eyes gave no promise of the fits

of frenzied eloquence which had made his pulpit famous in Paris.

"Then Kill and Burn are His alphabet!" Tavannes retorted, and heedless of

the start of horror which a saying so near blasphemy excited among the

Churchmen, he turned to Father Pezelay. "And you! You, too, I know!" he

continued. "And you know me! And take this from me. Turn, father!

Turn! Or worse than a broken head--you bear the scar, I see--will befall

you. These good persons, whom you have moved, unless I am in error, to

take this journey, may not know me; but you do, and can tell them. If

they will to Angers, they must to Angers. But if I find trouble in

Angers when I come, I will hang some one high. Don't scowl at me,

man!"--in truth, the look of hate in Father Pezelay's eyes was enough to

provoke the exclamation. "Some one, and it shall not be a bare patch on

the crown will save his windpipe from squeezing!"

A murmur of indignation broke from the preachers' attendants; one or two

made a show of drawing their weapons. But Count Hannibal paid no heed to

them, and had already turned on his heel when Father Pezelay spurred his

mule a pace or two forward. Snatching a heavy brass cross from one of

the acolytes, he raised it aloft, and in the voice which had often

thrilled the heated congregation of St. Magloire, he called on Tavannes

to pause.

"Stand, my lord!" he cried. "And take warning! Stand, reckless and

profane, whose face is set hard as a stone, and his heart as a flint,

against High Heaven and Holy Church! Stand and hear! Behold the word of

the Lord is gone out against this city, even against Angers, for the

unbelief thereof! Her place shall be left unto her desolate, and her

children shall be dashed against the stones! Woe unto you, therefore, if

you gainsay it, or fall short of that which is commanded! You shall

perish as Achan, the son of Charmi, and as Saul! The curse that has gone

out against you shall not tarry, nor your days continue! For the

Canaanitish woman that is in your house, and for the thought that is in

your heart, the place that was yours is given to another! Yea, the sword

is even now drawn that shall pierce your side!"