“I am forgetting—I could forget all in your company. But M. de Proballe has arranged that I see the Duke to-night. I had best seek him.”
“You must be careful with the Governor, Gerard.”
“Why? I do not fear him.”
“He is all-powerful here in Morvaix. You saw what passed in the market place yesterday. He is a man of iron.”
“Yet what harm can he do me?”
“He is bad to the heart’s core. His wife is my one intimate friend in Morvaix, an honourable, God-fearing woman, who has suffered unspeakable sorrows at his hands in her life. She is now bed-ridden, poor soul; and we have spoken freely together of the Duke.”
“He is a tyrant—that I have learnt.”
“And many worse things, I fear. I would not willingly speak ill of any man, but to you I should speak freely. He has but too well merited the term men give him—the Tiger of Morvaix. Could the grim walls and torture chambers of his castle bear witness against him, fearsome truths indeed would come to light.”
“Tell me of them.”
“Nay, not to-night. To-night we will not speak of Morvaix horrors; rather let us hope that from to-night, from your coming, Gerard, better times will dawn for the city and the unfortunate citizens. The Duke is a hard, harsh, cruel man, who tolerates but one principle of rule: blind implicit obedience to his will, to be enforced by any measure of cruelty, however violent and harsh. He has ground down the people until the yoke has become intolerable; and yet there seems no remedy. I sent tidings privately to the Duke of Bourbon, as Suzerain of the province, praying him to come or send aid to us before the people should be driven to open rebellion. But no one comes, no one heeds; and we must work out our own rescue. I have a faint hope indeed, that matters will mend.”