Baville made a sign to the greffier of the court who advanced toward him; then, after giving the man his instructions, he turned to the bishop and said: "Monsiegneur, they have been sent for. In a moment they will be before you. They are close at hand."
They were so close at hand that they entered the court almost at once, escorted by the greffier, the pastor walking by the side of Martin and both returning the salutation of Baville, who, true to the outward bearing to which he had trained himself, bowed with civility. In his heart he had long since determined that Buscarlet was one of the most dangerous of the Protestant ministers with whom he would have to deal, for the simple reason that it was impossible to find any flaw in his conduct which would justify him in transporting him to the galleys or New France; and therefore, until that flaw was discovered, until the opening was given him, he did not betray his determination by outward rudeness.
As for the stranger who was before him, he scarcely knew what his course of action should be. The story he told of himself might be true, in which case he had no possible authority for molesting him, while, even though it were false, he would have great difficulty in proving it to be so.
Also, as happens frequently to those of the most astute minds, he had forgotten to put one leading question to this stranger: To ask him if he--who had been the lodger of this pestilential heretic, and who, by a strange chain of circumstances, was the only other witness of the abbé's murder who had remained behind in Montvert--was himself a heretic.
Had forgotten it; though now it seemed to Martin, as he stood there looking round the room filled with men all bitterly hostile to the Protestant faith, that the question could no longer remain unasked. Would that bishop, sitting there calm and impassive, also omit to ask it? That field marshal omit it too, whose apostasy and fierce vindictive hatred of those he had deserted was known and talked of wherever half a dozen of the Reformed faith gathered together to discuss their persecutions and their persecutors? Also those priests and those six hooded monks who had followed in the soldiers' train? Scarcely could he deem it possible!
Well, he was prepared with his answer. No denial would issue from his lips, no lie be told. Therefore he took the place to which the Intendant motioned him, and, sitting, down by Buscarlet's side, prepared calmly to await whatever might happen.
Had he been able to see behind him he would have observed that which, even though it had carried him no consternation, must have astonished him; for on the face of one of those cowled monks, the man even throwing back the hood from off his forehead to stare more intently at him as he endeavoured to catch a second glance of Martin's features, he would have noticed a look of profound astonishment--the look of one who sees another in the last place of all where he would have expected so to see him, and who, while thus seeing, can scarcely force himself to believe his own eyes.
"Monsieur Buscarlet," said Baville, quietly and with no accent either of impoliteness or reproof in his tones, "what happened at Montvert the other night amid some who were once your flock must be clearly told to all assembled here. From you I must demand an account, as I have the right to do. Later I shall ask this gentleman, Monsieur Martin, if he agrees with that account."
As he said the words "Monsieur Martin" the cordelier started. Then over his shaven face--a face unrelieved by either eyebrows or eyelashes, so that those who looked at him might doubt if indeed his cheeks were ever touched by razor and if their lack of hair was not due to a defect in Nature--there came that look of new-born recognition which all have seen spring into the countenances of others.
"Martin!" he uttered, "Martin! Ay, that was the name. The name he was called by. It is he. What does he here? He of the house of de Rochebazon, and consorting with heretics!"