"If my liberation, noble Count, depends on Sir John Grey's using his influence for ought but his Sovereign's interests," replied Richard of Woodville, "I fear I shall be long a captive. However, to him will be, perchance, my only letter; for he can communicate with other friends."
"Do as you will, noble lords," cried the Count of Armagnac, who had been sitting silent for some time, gnawing his nail in gloomy meditation; "but were I you I would suffer no such letters to pass. They will but tend to counteract all that you desire. Here you have in your hands one of the hearty enemies of France: that is clear from every word,--one who, at all risks, would urge his sovereign to deeds of hostility against us, when we are already wrung by internal discord. Why should you suffer him to pour such poison into the hearts of his countrymen?"
"Nay, nay," replied the Count of Vaudemont; "my word is given, and I cannot retract it. We are less harsh than you, my lord, and doubt not that this noble knight will say nothing against the cause of those who grant him this permission."
"On no such subjects will I treat, sirs," answered Richard of Woodville; "the matter of my letter will be simple enough, my own liberation being all the object."
"You must be quick, however," said the Lord of Vaudemont; "for, at morning song, to-morrow, the messenger departs."
The young knight replied that his letters would be ready in an hour, and the three noblemen withdrew for a moment; but he could hear that they continued speaking together in the passage; and the next instant, the Duke of Orleans and the Count of Armagnac returned. "We cannot suffer long letters, sir knight," said the latter, as soon as he entered; "if all you wish is to treat for your ransom, and to induce your friends to exert themselves for your liberation, you can send messages by word of mouth, which we can hear and judge of."
"But how will my friends know that such messages really come from me?" demanded Woodville, with deep mortification.
"Why," replied the Count, after a moment's thought, "you may send a few words in the French tongue, in our presence--for we have heard of inks and inventions which escape the eye of all but the persons for whom they are intended--you may send a few words, I say, merely telling the gentlemen to whom you write, to give credit to what the bearer shall speak."
Woodville paused and meditated; but then, having formed his resolution, he replied, "Well, my good lord, if better may not be, so will I do. Send me the messenger when you will, and I will give him the credentials required."
"Call him now, my fair Lord of Armagnac," said the Duke of Orleans, with a significant look. "He is below."