He felt Mary Fleming start and catch at her breath; but to him the question seemed very natural.
‘I will go now, madam.’
‘Yes. Go now. Be secret and speedy, and come back to me.’
He bowed, rose up, and went tiptoe out of that chamber of mystery and sharp sweetness. Just beyond the door Adam Gordon pounced on him and caught him by the neck. He struggled fiercely, tried to bite.
‘Let me go, let me go, you silly fool, and worse! I’m on service. Oh, my God, let me go!’
‘How does she? Speak it, you French thief.’
‘Dieu de Dieu!’ he panted, ‘I shall stab you.’
At once his hands were pinned to the wall, and he crucified. He told his errand—since time was all in all—with tears of rage.
‘I shall go with you,’ says Adam. ‘We will go together.’