“Master Isnard,” whispered he, with broken voice, “we are caught in a mouse-trap; they have carried away the bridge.”
Notwithstanding the self-possession he affected, the recorder looked over his shoulder, and said, in a low voice: “Clerk, order the halberdiers to approach without attracting attention.”
The clerk obeyed; the little band concentrated in the middle of the court, with the exception of the Bohemian.
Standing at the foot of the balcony, he seemed to contemplate with curiosity the gentlemen gathered there.
Master Isnard, anxious to accomplish his task, and seeing that he had been mistaken in presuming upon the hospitality of Raimond V., read, not without hesitation, the judicial summary.
“In the name of his Majesty, our sire, King of France and of Navarre, and Count of Provence, and of his Eminence, the cardinal, I, Thomas Isnard, recorder of the admiralty of Toulon, sent by the king’s attorney to the seat of the said admiralty, make here in this Maison-Forte the census and catalogue of the arms and ammunitions of war therein enclosed, in order to draw up a statement, on which statement his Excellence, the Marshal of Vitry, Governor of Provence, will decide to the end that we may be advised as to what quantity of arms and ammunition ought to be left in the said Maison-Forte; accordingly, I, Thomas Isnard, recorder of the admiralty of Toulon, here present myself in person to the said Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez, praying him of necessity to obey the orders signified. Made at Maison-Forte des Anbiez, dependent of the diocese of Marseilles, and the jurisdiction of Aix, December 17,1632.” The old baron and his friends listened to the recorder with perfect calmness, exchanging frequent glances of contempt. When Master Isnard had concluded, Raimond V. leaned over the railing of the balcony and replied:
“Worthy recorder, worthy deputy of the worthy Marshal of Vitry, and of the worthy Cardinal Richelieu,—God save the king, our count, from his Eminence,—we, Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez, and master of this poor mansion, we authorise you to complete your mission. You see that door there on the left, on which is nailed the sign-board, ‘Arms and Artillery,’—open it, and perform the duties of your office.”
As he said these words the old gentleman and his guests sat with their elbows on the balcony railing, as if they had prepared themselves for the enjoyment of an interesting and unusual spectacle.
Master Isnard had followed with his eyes the gesture of the baron, which indicated to him the mysterious magazine.
It was a door of medium size, on which could easily be read the newly painted words, “Arms and Artillery.” This door was situated in the middle of the left wing, which was largely made up of rooms for the servants.