He trembled in my grasp, and I turned his face up towards mine. It was the face of mademoiselle's boy, Pierre, who had left us in the forest!
"You here?" I cried. "It was you, then, who opened the gate to her! How came you here? Speak, if ever you would see the blue sky again!"
I pressed my fingers into his throat, until he choked and the fear of death showed in his starting eyes; then I released my clasp, that he might speak.
"Oh, monsieur, have mercy!" he gasped. "Do not kill me!"
I saw that he was thoroughly frightened for his life. He was but a boy, and to a boy the imminent prospect of closing one's eyes forever is not pleasant.
"Speak, then! Tell the truth!" I said, still holding him by the neck, ready to tighten my clasp at any moment.
"I will, I will!" he said. "I went from Mlle. de Varion to M. de la
Chatre, with a message, and he kept me in his service."
"What message? The truth, boy! I shall see in your eyes whether or not it be truth you tell me, and if you lie your eyes shall never look on the world again. Quick, what message?"
"That I came from Mlle. de Varion to the governor," he answered, huskily, "and that at the top of the hill that rises from the throne-shaped rock by the river road to Narjec is the burrow of the Huguenot fox!"
The last doubt, the last hope, was gone!