"There are six to two of us," Odo interposed. "Silence! Some one speaks."
It was the voice of the envoy of Ugo of Tuscany.
"Although it seems like a taunt, to fling into the face of my lord the sister of the woman who was the cause of his defeat—"
"His coward soul was the cause of the Lord Ugo's defeat," Basil interposed hotly. "In the dark of night, by means of a rope he let himself down from his lair, to escape the wrath of the fledgling he had struck for an unintentional affront. Did the Lord Ugo even inquire into the fate of the woman who perished miserably in the dungeons of the Emperor's Tomb?"
"Let us not be hasty," interposed another. "The Lord Ugo will listen to reason."
"The conditions are settled," Basil replied. "On the third night from to-night!"
The conspirators rose and, emerging from the ruined refectory, made their way down to their boat.
Soon the sound of oars, becoming fainter and fainter, informed the listeners that the company had departed.
Tristan's face was very white.
"What is to be done?" he turned pathetically to the monk who stood brooding by his side. "I almost wish I had let my fate overtake me—"