"You do not know that he has promised to spare me, if he cannot
produce you, and--and--a minister? He has granted me that; but I thought
when you entered that he had gone back on his word, and sent a priest,
and it maddened me! I could not bear to think that I had gained nothing.
Now you understand, and you will pardon me, Monsieur? If he cannot
produce you I am saved. Go then, leave me, I beg, without a moment's
delay."
He laughed derisively as he turned back his cowl and squared his
shoulders.
"All that is over!" he said, "over and done with, sweet! M. de Tavannes
is at this moment a prisoner in the Arsenal. On my way hither I fell in
with M. de Biron, and he told me. The Grand Master, who would have had
me join his company, had been all night at Marshal Tavannes' hotel, where
he had been detained longer than he expected. He stood pledged to
release Count Hannibal on his return, but at my request he consented to
hold him one hour, and to do also a little thing for me."
The glow of hope which had transfigured her face faded slowly.
"It will not help," she said, "if he find you here."
"He will not! Nor you!"
"How, Monsieur?"
"In a few minutes," he explained--he could not hide his exultation, "a
message will come from the Arsenal in the name of Tavannes, bidding the
monk he sent to you bring you to him.
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