Then word came of your
lordship and of His Majesty's letters, and 'twas thought that M. de
Montsoreau would not come, his authority being superseded."
"I see. And now your rabble think that they would prefer M. Montsoreau.
That is it, is it?"
The magistrate shrugged his shoulders and opened his hands.
"Pigs!" he said. And having spat on the floor, he looked apologetically
at the lady. "True pigs!"
"What connections has he here?" Tavannes asked.
"He is a brother of my lord the Bishop's vicar, who arrived yesterday."
"With a rout of shaven heads who have been preaching and stirring up the
town!" Count Hannibal cried, his face growing red. "Speak, man; is it
so? But I'll be sworn it is!"
"There has been preaching," the Provost answered reluctantly.
"Montsoreau may count his brother, then, for one. He is a fool, but with
a knave behind him, and a knave who has no cause to love us! And the
Castle? 'Tis held by one of M. de Montsoreau's creatures, I take it?"
"Yes, my lord."
"With what force?"
The magistrate shrugged his shoulders, and looked doubtfully at Badelon,
who was keeping the door. Tavannes followed the glance with his usual
impatience. "Mon Dieu, you need not look at him!" he cried. "He has
sacked St. Peter's and singed the Pope's beard with a holy candle! He
has been served on the knee by Cardinals; and is Turk or Jew, or monk or
Huguenot as I please.
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