Marcel Trouet's friends knew how to speak—and fever is infectious.
"Friends—ah! ah! foolish ones, listen——"
It was once more the piteous voice of old Koustak, but none heeded it.
They were crowding around the outer door.
"If they will but listen," groaned Jéhan de Quernais—"if only for a minute."
Michael nodded.
"They may do so yet."
"Not if they succeed in entering the Manor. Their mood is dangerous—and—if Trouet declares that Denningham is Varenac——"
"We shall not live long to prove the contrary."
"And there are the women."