Raimond V. wore his holiday attire, richly braided with gold, and his white hair fell over his lace collar. Nothing was more dignified, more imposing or manly than his attitude.
“What do you want?” said he, in a sonorous voice. Master Isnard repeated the formula of his speech, and concluded by declaring that Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez, was arrested, and would be conducted under a safe escort to the prison of the provost of Marseilles, for the crime of rebellion against the orders of the king.
The baron listened to the recorder in profound silence. When the man of law had finished, cries of indignation, howls, and threats, uttered by the dependents of the baron, resounded through the interior court.
Raimond V. turned around, commanded silence, and replied to the recorder:
“You wished to visit my castle illegally, and to exercise in it an authority contrary to the rights of the Provençal nobility. I drove you away with my whip. I did what I ought to have done. Now, Manjour! I cannot allow myself to be arrested for having done what I ought to have done in chastising a villain of your species. Now, execute the orders with which you are charged,—I will not prevent you, any more than I prevented your visit to my magazine of artillery. I regret the departure of my guests, for they also, in their name, would have protested against the oppression of the tyranny of Marseilles.” This speech from the baron was welcomed with cries of joy by the garrison of Maison-Forte.
Raimond V. was about to descend from his pedestal when Captain Georges, who had the rough language and abrupt manners of an old soldier, advanced on the other side of the moat; he took his hat in his hand, and said to Raimond V., in a respectful tone:
“Monseigneur, I must inform you of one thing, which is, that I have with me fifty determined soldiers, and that I am resolved, though to my regret, to execute my orders.”
“Execute them, my brave friend,” said the baron, smiling, with a jocose manner, “execute them. Your marshal wishes to know if my powder is good; he instructs you to be the gunpowder prover. We will begin the trial whenever you wish.”
“Captain, this is too much parley,” cried the recorder. “I order you this instant to employ force of arms to take possession of this rebel against the commands of the king, our master, and to—”
“Recorder, I have no orders to receive from you; only take care not to put yourself between the lance and the cuirass,—you might come to grief,” said the captain, imperiously, to Master Isnard.