The Lord of Roubaix was a tall man of some forty years of age. Guy bowed deeply and handed to him the roll of parchment. The count broke the seal and read it, and when he had finished looked fixedly at Guy.
"The writer tells me that you are to be trusted?"
"I hope so, my lord."
"Do you know the contents of this letter?"
"I know so much, my lord, that the writer told me to assure you that the matter was urgent, and that he could not be mistaken as to what was written in the letter."
The count stood irresolute for a minute or two; then he said:
"Tell him that I will act upon his advice. He has before now proved to me that his warnings are not to be neglected. You seem by your attire to be an apprentice, young sir, and yet your manner is one of higher degree."
"Disguises are convenient in times like these, my lord," Guy said.
"You are right, lad." He put his hand to his pouch, but Guy drew back with a smile.
"No, my lord, had you offered me gold before you remarked that I was but playing a part, I should have taken it in order to keep up that part; as it is I can refuse it without your considering it strange that I should do so."