“No,” he cried; “not until the infamy of this thing has been made public.”
A profound hush of expectancy fell upon the great throng, each man holding his breath in wonderment and suspense; and before it was broken, an officer entered hurriedly and approached the Governor—
“My lord, my lord,” he said excitedly; “I crave your lordship’s pardon. Captain Boutelle has sent me to report that a large force of troops are approaching the city.”
“At last,” whispered Gerard under his breath, with a deep sigh of relief.
The Governor turned to two of his captains near him—
“Go at once, Des Moulins, and you, Courvoir, and see what this means. Close the gates against them, and hold them in parley till I come.”
The men hurried out in company with the officer who had brought the news.
“Clear the hall, Captain Fourtier; drive these canaille back to the prisons until I can deal with them.”
“Stop,” cried Gerard, springing to his feet. “No one leaves the hall except at my orders. The force you hear of is a Bourbon army coming here under my command. Your power is broken, my lord Duke. Who disobeys me now will answer to the Suzerain Duke, Great Bourbon, for his disobedience. Bear the Duchess away. Gabrielle, you had better leave with her.”
“By God, you shall rue this insolent presumption! Let the hall be cleared, I say. It is I, the Governor, who order it.”