Hither came Guy, holding Isoult fast by the wrist. And he found Merlin in “The Painted Lady,” and though it was June, sitting on a stool before the fire, his cowl thrown back, his gaunt face glistening, the nails of his right hand bitten to the quick.
Isoult was bidden up the ladder stairs into an attic, and Guy sidled up to Merlin and touched him on the shoulder.
“Prettily fooled, by cock, and by no King!”
Merlin turned on him savagely.
“No King, say you? Too much of a King!”
Then Guy bent to him and whispered, and Merlin started and straightened like a man stabbed in the back.
“Thunder!”
“Ask the wench. It was the bastard, or I’m no man.”
“Mea culpa!” He struck his chin with his fist. “Fool priest, blind ape! And I never scented the fox!”
He sprang up.