The company advanced with levelled pikes, but at a motion from the seigneur his men fell back before them, and, making a lane, disclosed Michel de la Forêt at the end of it. Michel had not approved of Lemprière’s mummery of defence, but he understood from what good spirit it sprang, and how it flattered the seigneur’s vanity to make show of resistance.
The governor greeted De la Forêt with a sour smile, read to him the Queen’s writ, and politely begged his company towards Mont Orgueil Castle.
“I’ll fetch other commands from her Majesty, or write me down a peddler of St. Ouen’s follies,” the seigneur said from his doorway, as the governor and De la Forêt bade him good-bye and took the road to the castle.
[VI]
MICHEL DE LA FORÊT was gone, a prisoner. From the dusk of the trees by the little chapel of Rozel, Angèle had watched his exit in charge of the governor’s men. She had not sought to show her presence; she had seen him—that was comfort to her heart; and she would not mar the memory of that last night’s farewell by another before these strangers. She saw with what quiet Michel bore his arrest, and she said to herself, as the last halberdier vanished:
“If the Queen do but speak with him, if she but look upon his face and hear his voice, she must needs deal kindly by him. My Michel—ah, it is a face for all men to trust and all women—”