“The Queen’s tongue is none so tame. I’ll travel by my star, get sweet or sour.”
“Well, well, ‘give a man luck, and throw him into the sea,’ is the old proverb. I’m coming for your friend to-night.”
“I’ll be waiting with my fingers on the door, sir,” said Rozel, with a grim vanity and an outrageous pride in himself.
CHAPTER V
The Seigneur of Rozel found De la Foret at the house of M. Aubert. His face was flushed with hard riding, and perhaps the loving attitude of Michel and Angele deepened it, for at the garden gate the lovers were saying adieu.
“You have come for Monsieur de la Foret?” asked Angele anxiously. Her quick look at the Seigneur’s face had told her there were things amiss.
“There’s commands from the Queen. They’re for the ears of De la Foret,” said the Seigneur.
“I will hear them too,” said Angele, her colour going, her bearing determined.
The Seigneur looked down at her with boyish appreciation, then said to De la Foret: “Two Queens make claim for you. The wolfish Catherine writes to England for her lost Camisard, with much fool’s talk about ‘dark figures,’ and ‘conspirators,’ ‘churls,’ and foes of ‘soft peace’; and England takes the bait and sends to Sir Hugh Pawlett yonder. And, in brief, Monsieur, the Governor is to have you under arrest and send you to England. God knows why two Queens make such a pother over a fellow with naught but a sword and a lass to love him—though, come to think, ‘a man’s a man if he have but a hose on his head,’ as the proverb runs.”