To my mind the attempt was impossible. He must die—and then—I became aware I was not alone, for Jean stood at my right hand smiling at me with his kind eyes.
“Gaspard,” he said, “I want a friend. You refused me once to-day. Will you deny me now? Will you come?”
I was not altogether lost. I was sick with the shame of what had passed. I dared not refuse.
“I will come,” I answered, and my voice was strange, even to my own ears. It was Fate. Who can resist its decrees?
“Pour ma foy, et mon roy,” he said, linking his arm in mine, as he quoted the motto of his house. “To horse, man! There is not a moment to lose.”
CHAPTER VI
A PRIEST OF BAAL
“So you think your plans well laid?”
“Yes, and well thought out, Gaspard. The idea has been working in my head for some little time, and what happened to-day has convinced me it is feasible.”
“I do not follow.”
“I will explain. I owed my life to-day to my likeness to the Prince. When I was at that man’s mercy you saw him throw up his sword and pass me?”