There was a voice behind them, a voice speaking in broken but fluent English.
"You have broken into my house, you have killed my servant, you have prevented me from calling for help from you, a King lies bound in my upper chamber, v'là! And now you go to run a little course, to scurry hither and thither before the dogs are at your throats. You are all prepared to die. I also am ready to die if it must be so, but it need not be so if you will listen to me."
"What mean you?" Johnnie said.
As he spoke he saw, with a mingling of surprise and disgust, that the big painted face of Madame La Motte was full of animation and excitement. She seemed as if the events of the last hour had but stirred her to endeavour, had given a fillip to her sluggish life.
More astonishing than all, she rose from her chair, gathering together her vast, unwieldy bulk, came round from behind the table, and joined their conference almost with vivacity.
"Tiens," she said, "there are other countries than this. An army beaten in an engagement is not always routed. Retreat is possible within friendly frontiers."
The horrible old creature had such a strength and personality about her that, with her blood-stained mouth, her great panting body, her trembling jewelled hands, she yet in that moment dominated them all.
"There is one last chance. At dawn—and dawn is near by—the ship St. Iago sails from the Thames for foreign parts. The master of the ship, Clark, is"—she lowered her voice and spoke only to Commendone—"is a client of mine here. He is much indebted to me in many ways, and ere day breaks we may all be aboard of her and sailing away. What is't to be, messieurs?"
They all looked at each other for a moment in silence.
Then Elizabeth put her arms round the old woman's neck and kissed her.