"You do not know me, but I have come on your business."
"Then you will come again when it is daylight, my friend," and he began to close the door.
"Very well," was the immediate reply. "I am determined to see you now, and if your dogs attempt to stop me they must take the consequences."
Simon laughed incredulously; but when he heard the iron gate scream on its rusty hinges, and when he heard the growls of the dogs, he exclaimed, vehemently, "Take care! You will be torn to pieces!"
"I shall at least kill one of your dogs first," was the determined reply.
"Stop! I will call them off," said Mansart, who would never have yielded had he the smallest doubt of the other's resolution. He whistled his great curs off; but he was sorry that he had done so when he perceived his visitor, who was a French trooper, swaggering and fierce, and who could have crushed Mansart in his strong arms.
"May I come in?" said he, and he advanced so persistently that the other was compelled to retreat before him. He closed the door and stood before it—tall, erect, commanding.
"Your errand, monsieur?" demanded Simon, trembling with rage, yet afraid.
"How dark it is in here! And what a little fire for so cold a night!"
"We do not need light to talk by, and I am warm enough."