Count Hannibal smiled grimly. "And your sister's son?" he sneered. "And your girl who is white-faced for his sake, and may burn on the same bonfire with him? And----"
"Mercy! Mercy!" the wretched Provost cried. And he wrung his hands. "Lescot and Thuriot----"
"Perhaps we may hang Lescot and Thuriot----"
"But I see no way out," the Provost babbled. "No way! No way!"
"I am going to show you one," Tavannes retorted. "If the gibbets are not in place by sunrise, I shall hang you from this window. That is one way out; and you'll be wise to take the other! For the rest and for your comfort, if I have no letters, it is not always to paper that the King commits his inmost heart."
The magistrate bowed. He quaked, he doubted, but he had no choice. "My lord," he said, "I put myself in your hands. It shall be done, certainly it shall be done. But, but----" and shaking his head in foreboding he turned to the door.
At the last moment, when he was within a pace of it, the Countess rose impulsively to her feet. She called to him. "M. le Prévôt, a minute, if you please," she said. "There may be trouble to morrow; your daughter may be in some peril. You will do well to send her to me. My lord"--and on the word her voice, timid before, grew full and steady--"will see that I am safe. And she will be safe with me."
The Provost saw before him only a gracious lady, moved by a thoughtfulness unusual in persons of her rank. He was at no pains to explain the flame in her cheek, or the soft light which glowed in her eyes, as she looked at him, across her formidable husband. He was only profoundly grateful--moved even to tears. Humbly thanking her he accepted her offer for his child, and withdrew wiping his eyes.
When he was gone, and the door had closed behind him, Tavannes turned to the Countess, who still kept her feet. "You are very confident this evening," he sneered. "Gibbets do not frighten you, it seems, madame. Perhaps if you knew for whom the one before the door is intended?"
She met his look with a searching gaze, and spoke with a ring of defiance in her tone. "I do not believe it!" she said. "I do not believe it! You who save Angers will not destroy him!" And then her woman's mood changing, with courage and colour ebbing together, "Oh, no, you will not! You will not!" she wailed. And she dropped on her knees before him, and holding up her clasped hands, "God will put it in your heart to spare him--and me!"