The castellan made for the door, but before he reached it, he rested on his staff, and burst into a convulsive fit of laughter.
"What is that?" asked the Captain, coming towards him. "What makes you laugh?"
"Excuse me, Messire. I am old, and my nerves are shaken. I have had much to agitate them—and these convulsive fits come on me—when I think I am on the eve of a great pleasure—and it will be a great pleasure," he turned and bowed, and made a salutation with his cap, and with extended hands—"ah! Messire a great pleasure, to open the gate, and let you in!" He bowed profoundly, and went out backwards laughing and saluting.
CHAPTER XXIII.
IN THE HAIL.
Le Gros Guillem was jubilant. He kept his secret. Not to one of his men—not even to his lieutenant did he confide his purpose of surprising the castle and town of La Roque Gageac, for he well knew that no secret is safe when once it has slipped over the lips.
He was in excellent spirits, in buoyant, boisterous humour. He laughed and joked with his men, and Guillem was too grim a man to be often given to jest. He bade his men look to their arms, and he detailed those who were to follow him on an expedition. Whither he was going he did not say—but with him that was usual—he let no breath of rumour escape as to his destination whenever he made a raid, and on this account he was almost always successful; he came down like a bolt out of the sky on some spot, totally unprepared to resist him, and none could betray his scheme, and prepare those fallen upon, for none knew his destination till he started.
"Heliot!" called Guillem, suddenly arresting himself as he was drawing a long sword from the scabbard to examine if it were free of rust. "Did you observe that old man who was here last evening?"