"You go to guard her?" he said.
"Her and her honour," I answered steadily. "And I do not desire to resign that task into your hands, my lord."
"What will you do? How will you serve her?" he asked.
A sudden suspicion of him seized me. His manner had changed to a forced urbanity; when he was civil he was treacherous.
"That's my secret, my lord," I answered. "I have preparations to make. I pray you, give me leave." I opened the door and held it for him.
His rage mastered him; he grew red and the veins swelled on his forehead.
"By heaven, you shan't go," he cried, and clapped his hand to his sword.
"Who says that Mr Dale shall not go?"
A man stood in the doorway, plainly attired, wearing boots, and a cloak that half-hid his face. Yet I knew him, and Carford knew him. Carford shrank back, I bowed, and we both bared our heads. M. de Perrencourt advanced into the room, fixing his eyes on Carford.