"Well," he said, "you shall have your hostages."
"Ay, ay!" A sudden relaxation, a falling back into quietude of the seething mass approved the consent.
"You shall have my lieutenant," he continued, "and----"
"And I will be the other," cried Roger manfully. He stepped forward. "I am the son of M. le Vicomte there! I will be your hostage," he repeated.
But the smith, turning to his followers, grinned. "We'd be little the better for them," he said. "Eh? No, Sir Governor! We must have our choice!"
"Your choice, rogues?"
"Ay, we'll have the pick!" the crowd shouted. "The best of the basket!" Amid ferocious laughter.
Des Ageaux had suspected for some hours past that he had done a foolish, a fatally foolish thing in trusting these men, whom no man had ever trusted. He saw now that only two courses stood open to him. He might strike the smith down at his feet, and risk all on the effect which the act might have on his followers; or he might yield what they asked, allow them to choose their hostages, and trust to time and skill for the rest. His instincts were all for the bolder course, but he had women behind him, and their chance in a conflict so unequal must be desperate. With a quietness and firmness characteristic of the man he accepted his defeat.
"Very well," he said. "It matters nothing. Whom will you have?"
"We'll have you," the smith replied grinning, "and her!" With a grimy hand he pointed to the little Countess who with Bonne's arm about her and Fulbert at her elbow was staring fascinated at the line of savage faces.