“Greeting, good friar,” said Babillon, a strong, lithe, hard-faced, keen-eyed man, saluting Gerard respectfully.
“I am no monk, my good fellow,” said Gerard, “but a soldier, and together with mademoiselle here need your help to get from the city. What is this you say has occurred?”
“A command was sent by my lord the Governor, to-day, monsieur, that the gates were to be closed and no one permitted to leave without a license from himself. Soon after that I was at the south gate and having been stopped was hanging round in curiosity, when a courier rode up and was stopped likewise. A monk, whom I recognized, was with him, and seeing both were much disconcerted, I followed them and offered my services.”
“Can you describe either?” asked Gerard quickly.
“The monk was tall, erect, spare of figure, with a blue eye sharp to read your thoughts, quick of tongue, and customed to command, as I found afterwards. A noble, monsieur, and yet of winning condescension and with a laugh where many another would have a curse.”
“It might be Pascal,” said Gerard to Gabrielle. “What next, Babillon? You say you recognized him?”
“I had seen him before, my lord. It was he who stood between you and the soldiers when my brother was killed, mademoiselle. He told me that if I could get him two men in secret from the city he would reward me well; and when I showed him it could be done, he carried me with him and left me in charge of some monks—at least they were dressed as monks, monsieur, though my ears being trained to catch sounds readily, I heard more muttered oaths among them than one looks to hear from men of holy life. I served him, monsieur, and he paid me well; but ’twas this work which has caused the city to be shut like a bear’s cage with the door barred.”
“You got them away then?”
“Two separately while the light lasted and two together after nightfall, but the last piece was hazardous. They were seen, and I escaped capture by no more than a hair’s breadth. And since then at every doubtful point where such a thing could be attempted soldiers have been posted.”
“This is both good and ill news you give, friend. You have done that which will earn you a higher reward than at present I can name. But now, can you increase my gratitude, and get us past these guards? Think. It is Pascal, of course,” he said to Gabrielle, while Babillon stood thinking. “He has trebled the messengers to Cambrai. Now, Babillon, how say you?”