"That was not it. I had borne that!" she cried. "Mayhap I deserved it. But while my lord thundered at me, word came that M. de Mar was taken. My lord swore he should die. He swore no man ever set him at naught and lived to boast of it."
"Will—"
She swept on unheeding:
"He said he should be tried for the murder of Pontou—he should be tortured to make him confess it."
She dropped down on her knees, hiding her face in her arms on the table, shaking from head to foot as in an ague. Vigo swore to himself, loudly, violently: "If Mayenne do that, by the throne of Heaven, I'll kill him!"
She sprang to her feet, dry-eyed, fierce as a young lioness.
"Is that all you can say? Mayenne may torture him and be killed for it?"
"I shall send to the duke—" Vigo began.
"Aye! I shall go to the duke! I can say who killed Pontou. I know much besides to tell the king. I was Mayenne's cousin, but if he would save his secrets he must give up M. de Mar. Mother of God! I have been his obedient child; I have let him do so with me as he would. I sent my lover away. I consented to the Spanish marriage. But to this I will not submit. He shall not torture and kill Étienne de Mar!"
Vigo took her hand and kissed it.