"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.
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