"You have seen the man to-day, and you know his strength?"
Etienne bowed.
"You must bring three daring fellows with you. Three of the soldiers who accompanied me here to-day will do. You can instruct them. Guide them through the armory, and by yonder passage to this room. The curtain will conceal you. Make no noise; he is a wary foe. When I draw my sword upon him, strike him down ere he can turn. Give him no chance; he is not a man to be trifled with."
Again Etienne signified a stolid assent.
"Away now, and let not your fellows know my signal. A false step will cost them their lives at La Pommeraye's hand. And let not a word escape you, or I will string all four of you to the nearest tree. So, away! and see that you are punctual. Let the good work be well done."
The stoical Picard withdrew from his master's presence, but muttered to himself as he went down the long hall which led to the square: "It will go hard, but I will see that the good work is, indeed, well done."
Charles de la Pommeraye was pretty well worn out by the amount of travelling he had done, and he was glad when Etienne left him, and he could throw himself on his couch to sleep. But the air seemed oppressive. He felt that there was treachery in it, and, rising, he bolted and barred the door of his room, and placed his trusty sword within reach of his hand. Still he could not rest, and tossed about, seeing both the hard face of De Roberval before him, and the rugged outlines of the barren, northern island with the beckoning smoke curling upward.
Midnight came; and when everything was at rest save the clink, clank of the sentry's footfall as he walked back and forth on the wall, La Pommeraye raised himself on his elbow, and listened. A rat seemed to be gnawing at the wall. "Hard food, these stones," he said to himself. "Methinks," he added, as the sound grew louder, "the rat hath strong teeth."