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I heard an answering cry of alarm from the window; and then Madame de Pavannes ran forward and caught her in her arms. It was strange to find the room lately so silent become at once alive with whispering forms, as we came hastily to light. I cursed Croisette for his folly, and was immeasurably angry with him, but I had no time to waste words on him then. I hurried to the door to guard it.
And so we clattered up the steep street of Caylus with a pleasant melancholy upon us, and passed, not without a more serious thought, the gloomy, frowning portals, all barred and shuttered, of the House of the Wolf, and under the very window, sombre and vacant, from which Bezers had incited the rabble in their attack on Pavannes' courier. We had gone by day, and we came back by night.
Nothing! I dare him to explain!" And certainly Mirepoix thus challenged was silent. "Come," the priest continued peremptorily, turning to the lady who had entered with him, "your sister must leave with us at once. We have no time to lose." "But what what does it mean!" Madame de Pavannes said, as though she hesitated even now. "Is there danger still?"
Pavannes and his wife the latter hastily disguised as a boy had hidden behind the door of the hutch by the gates the porter's hutch, and had slipped out and fled in the first confusion of the attack.
"Is M. de Bezers at his house?" she asked anxiously. "Yes," Croisette answered. "He came in last night from St. Antonin, with very small attendance." The news seemed to set her fears at rest instead of augmenting them as I should have expected. I suppose they were rather for Louis de Pavannes, than for herself.
Some confusion for I thought I grasped the Vidame's meaning; yet there he was still glowering on his victim with the same grim visage, still speaking in the same rough tone. "Listen, M. de Pavannes," he continued, rising to his full height and waving his hand with a certain majesty towards the window no one had spoken. "The doors are open! Your mistress is at Caylus.
I started as the name struck my ear, and at once cried out in surprise, "M. de Pavannes!" Had I heard aright? Apparently I had, for the prisoner turned to me with a bow. "Yes, sir," he said with dignity, "I am M. de Pavannes. I have not the honour of knowing you, but you seem to be a gentleman." He cast a withering glance at the captain as he said this.
But as yet the general populace seemed to be taking no active part in the disorder. Pavannes raised his hat an instant as we stood in the shadow of the houses. "The noblest man in France is dead," he said, softly and reverently. "God rest his soul! They have had their way with him and killed him like a dog. He was an old man and they did not spare him!
Madame Claude muttered something tearfully; something about Pavannes and the saints. I looked over Croisette's shoulder, and read the letter. It began abruptly without any term of address, and ran thus, "I have a mission in Paris, Mademoiselle, which admits of no delay, your mission, as well as my own to see Pavannes. You have won his heart.
But I reddened, reflecting how it would have been with us if I had had my way; if I had resorted in my shortsightedness to one last violent, cowardly deed, and killed him, as I had twice wished to do. Pavannes would then have been lost almost certainly.
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