La Tribe shuddered as he listened, as he looked. Try as he would, the thirst of these men for vengeance appalled him.
"How?" he said. "He has a score and more with him and you are only six."
"Seven now," Tignonville answered with a smile.
"True, but--"
"And he lies to-night at La Fleche? That is so?"
"It was his intention this morning."
"At the old King's Inn at the meeting of the great roads?"
"It was mentioned," La Tribe admitted, with a reluctance he did not comprehend. "But if the night be fair he is as like as not to lie in the fields."
One of the men pointed to the sky. A dark bank of cloud fresh risen from the ocean, and big with tempest, hung low in the west.
"See! God will deliver him into our hands!" he cried.
Tignonville nodded. "If he lie there," he said, "He will." And then to one of his followers, as he dismounted, "Do you ride on," he said, "and stand guard that we be not surprised. And do you, Perrot, tell Monsieur. Perrot here, as God wills it," he added, with the faint smile which did not escape the minister's eye, "married his wife from the great inn at La Fleche, and he knows the place."
"None better," the man growled. He was a sullen, brooding knave, whose eyes when he looked up surprised by their savage fire.
La Tribe shook his head. "I know it, too," he said. "'Tis strong as a fortress, with a walled court, and all the windows look inwards. The gates are closed an hour after sunset, no matter who is without. If you think, M. de Tignonville, to take him there--"
"Patience, Monsieur, you have not heard me," Perrot interposed. "I know it after another fashion. Do you remember a rill of water which runs through the great yard and the stables?"
La Tribe nodded.
"Grated with iron at either end and no passage for so much as a dog? You do? Well, Monsieur, I have hunted rats there, and where the water passes under the wall is a culvert, a man's height in length. In it is a stone, one of those which frame the grating at the entrance, which a strong man can remove--and the man is in!"
"Ay, in! But where?" La Tribe asked, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Well said, Monsieur, where?" Perrot rejoined in a tone of triumph. "There lies the point. In the stables, where will be sleeping men, and a snorer on every truss? No, but in a fairway between two stables where the water at its entrance runs clear in a stone channel; a channel deepened in one place that they may draw for the chambers above with a rope and a bucket. The rooms above are the best in the house, four in one row, opening all on the gallery; which was uncovered, in the common fashion until Queen-Mother Jezebel, passing that way to Nantes, two years back, found the chambers draughty; and that end of the gallery was closed in against her return. Now, Monsieur, he and his Madame will lie there; and he will feel safe, for there is but one way to those four rooms--through the door which shuts off the covered gallery from the open part. But--" he glanced up an instant and La Tribe caught the smouldering fire in his eyes--"we shall not go in by the door."
"The bucket rises through a trap?"
"In the gallery? To be sure, monsieur. In the corner beyond the fourth door. There shall he fall into the pit which he dug for others, and the evil that he planned rebound on his own head!"
La Tribe was silent.
"What think you of it?" Tignonville asked.
"That it is cleverly planned," the minister answered.
"No more than that?"
"No more until I have eaten."
"Get him something!" Tignonville replied in a surly tone. "And we may as well eat, ourselves. Lead the horses into the wood. And do you, Perrot, call Tuez-les-Moines, who is forward. Two hours' riding should bring us to La Fleche. We need not leave here, therefore, until the sun is low. To dinner! To dinner!"
Probably he did not feel the indifference he affected, for his face as he ate grew darker, and from time to time he shot a glance, barbed with suspicion, at the minister. La Tribe on his side remained silent, although the men ate apart. He was in doubt, indeed, as to his own feelings. His instinct and his reason were at odds. Through all, however, a single purpose, the rescue of Angers, held good, and gradually other things fell into their places. When the meal was at an end, and Tignonville challenged him, he was ready.
"Your enthusiasm seems to have waned," the younger man said with a sneer, "since we met, monsieur! May I ask now if you find any fault with the plan?"
"With the plan, none."
"If it was Providence brought us together, was it not Providence furnished me with Perrot who knows La Fleche? If it was Providence brought the danger of the faithful in Angers to your knowledge, was it not Providence set us on the road--without whom you had been powerless?"
"I believe it!"
"Then, in His name, what is the matter?" Tignonville rejoined with a passion of which the other's manner seemed an inadequate cause. "What will you! What is it?"
"I would take your place," La Tribe answered quietly.
"My place?"
"Yes."
"What, are we too many?"
"We are enough without you, M. Tignonville," the minister answered. "These men, who have wrongs to avenge, God will justify them."
Tignonville's eyes sparkled with anger. "And have I no wrongs to avenge?" he cried. "Is it nothing to lose my mistress, to be robbed of my wife, to see the woman I love dragged off to be a slave and a toy? Are these no wrongs?"
"He spared your life, if he did not save it," the minister said solemnly. "And hers. And her servants."
"To suit himself."
La Tribe spread out his hands.
"To suit himself! And for that you wish him to go free?" Tignonville cried in a voice half-choked with rage. "Do you know that this man, and this man alone, stood forth in the great Hall of the Louvre, and when even the King flinched, justified the murder of our people? After that is he to go free?"
"At your hands," La Tribe answered quietly. "You alone of our people must not pursue him." He would have added more, but Tignonville would not listen.
Brooding on his wrongs behind the wall of the Arsenal, he had let hatred eat away his more generous instincts. Vain and conceited, he fancied that the world laughed at the poor figure he had cut; and the wound in his vanity festered until nothing would serve but to see the downfall of his enemy. Instant pursuit, instant vengeance--only these, he fancied, could restore him in his fellows' eyes.
In his heart he knew what would become him better. But vanity is a potent motive: and his conscience, even when supported by La Tribe, struggled but weakly. From neither would he hear more.
"You have travelled with him, until you side with him!" he cried violently. "Have a care, monsieur, have a care, lest we think you papist!" And walking over to the men, he bade them saddle; adding a sour word which turned their eyes, in no friendly gaze, on the minister.
After that La Tribe said no more. Of what use would it have been?
But as darkness came on and cloaked the little troop, and the storm which the men had foreseen began to rumble in the west, his distaste for the business waxed. The summer lightning which presently