"It will be bad," the Duc de Guise muttered, brushing his jewelled fingers across his forehead, "if all Louis' enemies are like this, all who are opposed to us!"
And again the old grey-haired soldier answered him, saying, "Be at peace, monseigneur. The man he tracked was his country's betrayer; he is not the enemy of Louis or of us."
"Sparmann," Stuven continued, "had reached a room at the end of the corridor; I was behind its open door, observing him through the chink beneath its hinges. And again the lightning played, and I saw that he was standing at the open window regarding something outside the balcony of that window. It was the head of a ladder that rose above the ledge some foot or more. And I heard him whisper to himself 'Can it be Bracton has come this way; I do fear he lurks near. I--I--ah! he will slay me.' While saying this he turned and made for the door to flee the room. As he so left, I, from my place behind that door, drove my knife deep into his breast, even as I whispered in his ear 'Traitor; renegade, foul, apostate!' and slashed at him again, missing him, but striking, I think, his arm or hand. Then, as he staggered down a great balcony round the hall, I knew that it was time for me to go, and that the ladder outside was my road.
"The wind of the storm had closed the door noisily, heavily, as he passed out; the noise reverberated through the empty house; opening the door now, I rushed to the window. As I did so I saw the ladder head slowly sliding to one side, and I knew that it was being removed from its position against the balcony. And I leant over the ledge to see who was this third man who had been in the room, believing I should see this Englishman. But it was not he, but that other one, that traitor to you and your country," and again Stuven's finger pointed with scorn at Francbois. "And he saw me, but, in his turn, since the night was black and dark, thought I was the Englishman. Whereon he hissed, addressing me by some name I did not comprehend, 'So, so! English spy, English brigand, you add midnight murder to other things, here in the house of the woman you and I both love, the woman who--malediction on her!--loves you. I have you now--you! you!--the murderer of those in the service of France. You will never leave Liége alive!"
As Stuven reached this portion of his narrative, which was in absolute fact the end of it, since none cared to hear, or he to tell, of how he had left the house on the other side of it, losing his hat in the hurry of his flight, there came to his ears the sound of a thud, a heavy fall. Looking round, as did also Bevill, while the members of the Court of Inquiry and the soldiers could see what had happened, he perceived that Francbois had fallen in a swoon to the floor. What he had heard from this man's lips was, in truth, sufficient to cause him to swoon, since it was now proved that one of his principal charges against Bracton was false; though, had he known that against his enemy there still remained a graver charge than all--namely, of being in correspondence with one of the most bitter enemies of France--his agony of mind might not have been so great. For though Francbois could not hope that there remained the thousandth portion of a chance for his own life, the rendering up of that life might have been less bitter had he been certain that, with his existence, his enemy's would likewise be forfeited. Also, the sweetness of vengeance was lost to Francbois if, in death, that enemy should fail to recognise that it was to him he owed it.
Had the wretch but retained his faculties some moments longer, or, instead of being borne out of the salle d'armes by the men in whose custody he was, had he been allowed to lie until he regained his senses--as he shortly did when removed--some of the wild delirium of fulfilled revenge would have been his.
Now that Stuven had told his story, of the truth of which no person present had entertained a doubt, De Violaine addressed Bevill, saying:
"That you are innocent of the murder of that wretched man who was in the service of France, of the King," and he and the Duke touched their hats while the others bowed as he mentioned their august ruler, "the Court allows. But of the other charges it is not easy to acquit you. You entered a city invested by us under false names, bearing false papers; you endeavoured to leave the city, while also endeavouring to remove from it a woman who by our orders--orders common in war--was not to quit it. Also a letter has been found on you from your countryman, Lord Peterborough, in which he tells you he hopes soon to take part in this war against us, and bids you, at the same time, observe carefully our strength and the disposition of our forces, and to communicate with him thereupon. You have been a soldier in your own country's service, you have fought against France in the time of your late King, therefore you know the laws of war. You know, too, what action the present commander of the English forces would take if he discovered a Frenchman in the position in which you have placed yourself."
As De Violaine ceased his eyes were not removed from Bevill's face, wherefore the latter, taking this as an intimation that if he desired to speak this was the time, said:
"To what you say, Monsieur le Gouverneur, my answer must be brief, since, in truth, I have but little answer to make. Yet I crave hearing for my words. I am one who was cast out of his country's service because he avenged the insults uttered against it by that dead spy, Sparmann. When once more your country and mine were at war, I sought fresh service in the field, yet, being but a broken man, it needed to obtain that employment that I should bring myself before the eyes of those who might bestow it on me. A chance arose; I deemed it Heaven-sent. The woman whom now I love with my whole heart and soul, whose image is enshrined in my heart, and will be ever there till my last hour is told, was here. I thought I saw the chance, and snatched at it as one that might make me a soldier again. You, to whom I speak, are all soldiers; had your case been mine, had the chance come to you to reinstate yourselves, would you have refused to do so? Enough of this.