"It does not suffice. Give him back his jerkin."
"The executioner—the jailer has it. It is his perquisite."
"I cannot go after him. Send for it yourself. Consider what you are apt to forget, that time is all-important."
"Here!" ordered the Captain. "Bring the old fellow one of mine—any worn one will suffice."
A moment later a leather coat was given to Jean, brought by a serving-man. It was dark in the hall. Le Gros Guillem did not concern himself to look at what was produced. Probably the serving-man himself had taken the garment in a hurry without regarding it.
As Jean threw the jerkin over his father's shoulders, he felt that it was lined throughout with metal rings, and was impervious to a sword-blow or a pike-thrust.
As Ogier, invested in this garment, prepared to depart, the Captain, with brutal insolence, shouted—
"Seigneur! was it cold and black below?"
The old man did not reply.
"We two have met thrice," pursued Le Gros Guillem. "Once I fell on you at Ste. Soure and made you run," he laughed harshly; "secondly, you fell on me unawares, and I came off the worst. The third time we met on the Beune. It might be esteemed a drawn battle, but as I had captured you, I had got what I wanted. However, I have been over-reached; I am outwitted once more this time. Take care how we encounter for the fourth time. Do you mark me, Ogier del' Peyra? The fourth time—that will be the fatal meeting for one or other of us. The fourth time, Ogier."