"That he may have naught to do with me is my hope," answered La Mothe, with a little laugh which had no humour in it. "And as to deserts, he drank overmuch and beat the watch. Truly a vicious rascal! God send us all sober to bed, Uncle, and may a sudden end find nothing worse on our conscience than a dizzy brain. But that's not all. Midway between the castle and the Loire stands the Valmy gibbet, fair set in the sunshine and for all to see: and as I rode past there were two hung from it; two hang from it still, but they are not the same two."
"Thieves," said Commines. "Would you have the roads unsafe?"
"One of to-day's couple is a boy of twelve—unripe fruit for such a tree, Uncle, and a fearsome danger to the peace of France. Tristan does well to keep the roads safe from such swaggerers. Twelve years of life, twelve years of a pinched stomach, and—the justice of the King to end it all! And what of the woman who gathered nettles for the pot from the river-bank? The archers shouted to her, but she was hungry, poor starved soul, and gathered on, bent to all-fours like a beast. Then they shot her—like a beast. Down she went with an arrow through the bent back; a woman, Uncle."
"She should have hearkened and kept away," said Commines. "Neither man nor woman may come near Valmy without permission when the King is here."
"She should have hearkened," echoed La Mothe. "But the Good God had sealed her ears; she was deaf as a stone and so for the justice of the King she died. Then three days ago it was Guy de Molembrais, who came to Valmy—so 'tis said—with the King's safe-conduct."
"Molembrais lost his head as a traitor," answered Commines roughly.
"And the safe-conduct?"
"The safe-conduct was given before Molembrais' treason was fully proved."
"Then it is the King's justice to lure suspects——"
"There can be no faith with traitors. Did the safe-conduct make his treason less? Do you not see," he went on, as La Mothe made no reply, "that Molembrais got no more than his deserts?"