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 Books Ex< 
 
 HOLMES 
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 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 MUM, OF CALIF. LB, IA ANGELES
 
 M ARCELLE 
 THE MAD * * 
 
 By 
 SETH COOK COMSTOCK 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 i 906
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 Published March, 1906
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I. As TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES i 
 
 II. WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 20 
 
 III. RAGE AND RUIN 38 
 
 IV. COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT . . . .49 
 V. THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE . . . . 67 
 
 VI. A CHANGE OF ESCORT 81 
 
 VII. MY LORD'S MESSENGER 100 
 
 VIII. AFTER THE STORM 113 
 
 IX. THE STILL, SMALL VOICE 133 
 
 X. ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 149 
 
 XL UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 170 
 
 XII. GONE! 183 
 
 XIII. THE FATES AND CREPIN BRUNE 197 
 
 XIV. THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER . . .208 
 
 XV. IN THE MARKET-PLACE 226 
 
 XVI. A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR . . . 239 
 
 XVII. AT THE WIDOW GALIOT'S 255 
 
 XVIII. ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR . . 274 
 
 XIX. FROM OUT THE HAZE 2 93 
 
 XX. A BREAK IN THE LINES 3" 
 
 XXI. DAUPHINE 324 
 
 2126230
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 FAR and wide flew the grim summons. 
 The peasant of Luxembourg, wending his 
 weary way homeward through the twilight, 
 started at the loud clatter of hoofs on the 
 poplar-lined road behind him and leaped aside barely in 
 time to give the scurrying messenger free passage. The 
 mill-hand of Flanders checked his beast in its monoto- 
 nous round and forgot his grist in staring at this sudden 
 apparition. The simple man of Burgundy gazed search- 
 ingly from under his red-stained hand, then left his drip- 
 ping wine-press and hastened to his neighbour's to learn 
 what was afoot. (Alas, his hand was soon to be dyed 
 even more deeply, but in far different fashion!) In dis- 
 tant Artois, my lord, returning with his merry company 
 from the hunt, met the flying courier at the very gates 
 of his castle, and the laughter was stilled as he caught 
 the herald's message. 
 
 No vassal was there of all the great House of Bur- 
 gundy who escaped the stern call and none was there 
 who dared set it at naught. For the last time, Monseig- 
 neur the Duke, despite his threescore years and ten, 
 was to take the field. Yet now, it was no longer the 
 
 I
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 King of France to whom he opposed himself, but the 
 rebellious and brawling people of Liege and Dinant, who 
 had dared set his will at defiance. That Louis XL's 
 hands were fully occupied with his greedy designs upon 
 Normandy gave Monseigneur the freer scope for the 
 terrible revenge he meditated, for well did he know that 
 the king would never abandon his greater aim to suc- 
 cour the Liegeoise. Therefore, over every road leading 
 from Bruges sped the galloping heralds bearing their 
 dread summons to arms. No commonplace foray had 
 Monseigneur in mind, but a bitter, ruthless vengeance; 
 and that none might fail to understand, these riders bore 
 aloft in one hand a blazing torch, in the other a naked 
 sword fit omens of what was to follow. 
 
 And what offence had so enraged Monseigneur the 
 Duke; what insolent act had the Liegeoise committed 
 which could so fearfully rouse his wrath? Small reason 
 and less safety would there have been in asking such 
 question of any Burgundian. If Monseigneur had been 
 pleased to obtain the appointment of his nephew, Louis 
 de Bourbon, as Bishop of Liege, whose affair was that 
 but his own and the Pope's? If the new bishop had 
 soon proved himself a profligate, and had levied extor- 
 tionate tribute upon the people, was that any plea for 
 their rising in revolt and driving him from their midst? 
 Nay, rather were the bishop's faults due to his unripe 
 years since he had not yet attained a score, and were 
 to be passed over as something transient. What Mon- 
 seigneur had ordained must be endured; so argued the 
 men of Burgundy. 
 
 Yet, strangely enough, the Liegeoise had failed to 
 see the matter in the same light; had refused to submit 
 to being plundered of their savings for the profit of the 
 bishop's courtesans; and when warned by the duke, had 
 
 2
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 hurled defiance back at him for answer. In all the 
 province, but one town, Bouvignes, had remained loyal 
 to Monseigneur, and, conversely, none had gone further 
 in opposing him than the town of Dinant on the opposite 
 bank of the Meuse. Hence, in the nature of things, an 
 interurban warfare had sprung up between the people 
 of these two towns, and Bouvignes, getting the worst 
 of the encounter, had appealed to Monseigneur for aid. 
 
 The bishop had fled to Huy, taking with him his 
 dissolute and fearful followers, but not ere his brief rule 
 had thrown Liege into a state of unrestrained lawless- 
 ness. Thousands, ruined by his excesses, had forsaken 
 their homes and now roamed the vast forest of Ar- 
 dennes, living the lives of outlaws and balking at no 
 crime which desperate men and women may contrive. 
 Companions of the Green Tent they called themselves, 
 and woe to any traveller who fell within their clutches. 
 
 Of all these bands, one there was which was most 
 dreaded. It ranged over the hills about Dinant, whence 
 most of its members had come, pouncing upon any who 
 were so uninformed as to choose that route through the 
 forest, and warring with its neighbouring bands, though 
 few of the latter had any chance in such meeting. 
 Strange to say, the leader of this coterie of outlaws 
 was said to be a woman calling herself Marcelle the 
 Mad ; yet, in truth, there was little of the woman show- 
 ing in the doings of her company. But above all other 
 qualifications in a follower, she was held to rate hatred 
 of the House of Burgundy, and certain it was that many 
 a Burgundian disappeared into that part of the forest 
 where she held sway, never to return. 
 
 Thus it was that at last the duke roused to action. 
 Bitterly he railed at the Companions of the Green Tent ; 
 more bitterly he ranted against this Marcelle the Mad; 
 
 3
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 but most bitterly of all did he swear dire vengeance upon 
 the town of Dinant, the very breeding-nest of the gen- 
 eral revolt. 
 
 Yet, now that the call had gone forth, Monseigneur, 
 enfeebled by age, found that his strength was unequal 
 to taking full charge of operations. Fortunately, in his 
 own son, the Count de Charolais, he had a ready and 
 trusted lieutenant, and to him did he confide the mus- 
 tering of the host which was to crush all sedition in 
 short order. Monseigneur would follow by slow stages 
 as his state permitted, but would be present at the final 
 moment. To Count Charles should be the honour of 
 the immediate command. 
 
 The household such members of it as Monseigneur 
 or Count Charles selected repaired at once to Namur, 
 whither the forces were to report. Nor were these slow 
 in flocking to the standard. 
 
 Within a week came my Lord d'Humbercourt and, 
 fairly treading upon his heels, my Lords Contay and 
 Ravestein. From Picardy came its governor, Philip de 
 Crevecoeur, and with him the Marshal of Burgundy and 
 many more whose loyalty to Monseigneur was too well 
 known to be questioned. But greater than all these was 
 the Count de St. Pol, Constable of France, and of his 
 unswerving allegiance there might be some doubt, since 
 one day he truckled to the king and the next fawned 
 upon the Burgundian faction. Even he, however, dared 
 not disregard the summons, and though naturally he 
 might not bring the king's forces which were under his 
 command, he mustered a sufficient body of horse and 
 foot among his own vassals to make a goodly showing. 
 With these warriors came men-at-arms, archers, bombar- 
 diers, and foot-soldiers, till the streets of the town, open 
 enough of ordinary, were fairly choked by the armed 
 
 4
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 hordes pouring through them. By the first day of 
 August the muster was complete, and Count Charles 
 only awaited the arrival of Monseigneur before spring- 
 ing upon his prey. 
 
 The roar of laughter that greeted the man's sudden 
 entrance into the room died away as suddenly as it had 
 arisen, for, though he was regarded as the wag of the 
 company, it was plain enough that this time he had no 
 buffoonery in mind. 
 
 The Lady Agathe gave a little gasp and drew closer 
 to the Countess de Laubec, and the lackeys, who were 
 in the act of placing lights about the assembly room, 
 paused an instant in their work. Of the others, it was 
 the Lord d'Humbercourt who first found words. 
 
 "The devil, Monsieur Vignolles the constable; has 
 aught happened to him?" 
 
 The same thought occurred to all, it seemed, for 
 they crowded round the man eagerly. Nor was this 
 strange, since Hilaire Vignolles was vassal to the Count 
 de St. Pol, and, being his favourite, ever in his com- 
 pany when he stirred abroad. To see him as he now 
 stood before them, capless, his face and apparel grimy 
 with dirt and the sleeve nearly torn from his tunic, was 
 enough to rouse fear for the constable's safety. More- 
 over, it was well enough known that the Count de St. 
 Pol had others than friends in camp. 
 
 For a moment Vignolles might not answer, so blown 
 was he with exertion ; then he gasped : 
 
 " I I know naught of the constable, my lord ; I 
 I " 
 
 But here some one proffered him a cup of brandy, 
 and he paused long enough to drain it at a gulp; then 
 continued, as he fell into a chair : 
 
 5
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I have, in truth, been too busy to think of my lord 
 the constable, but, so far as I am aware, he is with 
 Count Charles. I am not on service to-day." 
 
 There was a faint touch of his wonted jesting in 
 the tone he used, and a passing flash in his eye that 
 told he was fast recovering his spirits at least. " Busy," 
 indeed, he seemed to have been. As he ended, he 
 lay back upon the arm of the chair so that those 
 nearest saw the red stain upon the material of his torn 
 sleeve. 
 
 " You are wounded, Monsieur Vignolles ! " exclaimed 
 Philip de Crevecoeur. 
 
 "Ay; grievously, my lord," replied Vignolles; 
 " grievously, but not there," he added quickly, as De 
 Crevecoeur would have made examination of his arm. 
 " There, 'tis but the scratch of a cat. 'Tis my heart 
 that has been painfully hit." And he pulled down 
 the frayed ends of his sleeve so that they all saw it was, 
 as he said, but a slight wound, from wjhich the blood 
 had already ceased flowing. 
 
 " Enough of your riddles, monsieur, and come to 
 the point ! " cried one, the Sieur Giraud d'Orson, a cap- 
 tain of fourscore lances, and much in Count Charles's 
 favour. " Enough men have I seen grievously hit at 
 heart as you say to know you suffer from no such 
 stroke. Out with it, man; see, even the ladies hang 
 upon your words ! " 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles turned quickly enough, and in 
 an instant was upon his feet, bowing low to the ladies, 
 and favouring them all equally with his smile. 
 
 " A thousand pardons for such a sight as I present, 
 mesdames ! " he said quickly. " Yet the saints be praised 
 that you are here to judge between the Sieur Giraud 
 and myself ! He claims that I suffer no wound at heart ; 
 
 6
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 I swear I do. You shall act as arbiters between us ; and 
 so, for my side of it." 
 
 " Now, by Our Lady, do you listen to him ! " whis- 
 pered De Contay in the ear of the Sieur d'Orson. " If 
 he weaves not a tale of romance fit to send the ladies 
 into hysterics, ne'er may I think to know the man again." 
 
 The Sieur d'Orson contented himself with a shrug 
 of the shoulders in reply, but was clearly of the same 
 opinion. He moved to the side of the Lady Agathe and 
 said something in an undertone, which caused her fair 
 head to go up and a smile to part her lips, as she shot a 
 glance at Monsieur Vignolles. That worthy was, by 
 now, oblivious to all save the impression he had made, 
 and fairly swelled with self-complacency. 
 
 " Firstly, you must know that alone this day I have 
 been to Bouvignes," he began grandly, and paused as 
 though challenging contradiction. 
 
 He met with none direct, however ; only the exchange 
 of significant glances among his hearers. The thing was 
 too impossible to render denial aught than waste of 
 breath, since marauding and cut-throat bands of Com- 
 panions were as thick as hived bees in all the woods 
 about Bouvignes. 
 
 " You are a bold man, Monsieur Vignolles," said De 
 Contay softly ; " yet, methinks, excitement has played 
 tricks with your memory. The state of your attire 
 would go to show that you were more successful in 
 trying than in actually entering Bouvignes." 
 
 " Yet, I swear to you, I did enter the town, my Lord 
 de Contay. 'Twas on my return I met with misadven- 
 ture," answered Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 " And what devil possessed you to tempt so speedy 
 an end, monsieur ? " asked the Sieur d'Orson. " The 
 way into Bouvignes will be free enough once we have 
 
 7
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 cleared these freebooters from the hills. Your business 
 must have been of the utmost moment that you must 
 risk the essay now." 
 
 " I may not speak of what took me there," replied 
 Monsieur Vignolles, even more grandly. ' The the 
 matter er er a lady's name is concerned, since you 
 press me." 
 
 Inasmuch as none had so pressed him, a ripple of 
 laughter ran round the company at his apparent forcing 
 of an imaginary liaison upon them. 
 
 " Then not a word more of your adventure in the 
 town, Monsieur Vignolles," cried the Lord d'Humber- 
 court. " Certainly, we would not willingly drag any 
 lady's name into the discourse at all events, not before 
 others," he added, with a quick glance of amusement at 
 the Lady Agathe and the countess. 
 
 " Then I may consider my back turned on Bouvignes 
 since the hour of five this afternoon ? " asked Vignolles 
 quickly. 
 
 " I think you may," answered the Lord d'Humber- 
 court, and added sotto voce, " since it probably was 
 turned in that direction the entire day." 
 
 " I thank you, my lord. Then, as I say, I galloped 
 forth from Bouvignes at five, and, deeming the same 
 route safe which had taken me thither, set spur along 
 it boldly enough. Yet, I had gone little over, a half- 
 league when, of a sudden, an arrow flew from the under- 
 brush on ray right you see a part of its course here 
 on my arm the next instant my mount had swerved 
 and I found myself torn from the saddle and thrown 
 heavily to earth." 
 
 " Yet, I'll be sworn, you made good account of your- 
 self, monsieur," said De Contay, with a scarce perceptible 
 droop of one eyelid toward the others. 
 
 8
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 " Ah, surely, surely you did, Monsieur Vignolles ! " 
 breathed the Lady Agathe with such intense earnestness 
 that one must have believed her sincere. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles hesitated for a moment, then, as 
 though casting aside a much-cherished wish, shook his 
 head in all sadness. 
 
 " Alas, my lady, would that I might deserve your 
 kind words! All that a worm may do when trodden 
 'neath a boot, that I did, and squirmed most valiantly 
 till they wrenched my sword free from its sheath and 
 bound me hard and fast. There were five of them, and 
 lusty knaves, forsooth." 
 
 General disappointment shone on the faces of his lis- 
 teners. Was it possible the man was for once speaking 
 seriously ? 
 
 " And then ? " queried the Sieur d'Orson, for the 
 first time seeming to take an interest in the tale. 
 
 " And then one of the rogues shouldered me as he 
 might have borne a deer's carcass and made off up the 
 hills with me. Yet I might not see the direction he took, 
 for they had thrown a filthy sack over my head ere taking 
 their weight from me." 
 
 " Yet you are sure you went up into the hills ? " said 
 De Crevecoeur. 
 
 " Ay, my lord ; by the man's stumbling and by an- 
 other's pushing him along from behind," answered Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles. " Nor was it any great distance I was 
 so carried, else I must have burst something in my head, 
 which hung downward over the knave's back. At 
 length, with a grunt, he threw me on to the ground and 
 drew the sack from my head." 
 
 " Thereby exposing nothing," muttered De Contay to 
 d'Humbercourt. 
 
 " At first, as you say, my lord, I saw naught," re- 
 9
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 plied Vignolles, having caught a part of De Contay's 
 speech " naught save the villainous face that was bent 
 over me for a moment as my bonds were severed." 
 
 "Ah! Then with a bound you were at his throat, 
 eh ? " cried De Crevecoeur. 
 
 " On the contrary, my lord, my attention was diverted 
 instantly by the movements of two of the rogues who 
 stood over me with half-drawn bows. There is a fas- 
 cination about an arrow-point, viewed from the ground 
 in such fashion. However, in another moment, they 
 motioned me to rise, and as I gained my feet, I saw 
 'twas no handful I had to deal with, but a veritable 
 company full threescore as ragged rascals as e'er went 
 unhung. Yet not a sound came from them, whereat I 
 greatly marvelled, seeing them thus forming a closed 
 circle about me in this small open space in the forest. 
 Then the ring opened at one side, and the entire band 
 half-wheeled that way, so that for a moment I meditated 
 a dash through the nearest of them." 
 
 " Now we are come to the romance," whispered De 
 Contay. 
 
 " Nay, my lord ; it is the truth the man is telling. 
 He is living over something again, doubt it not," an- 
 swered the Sieur d'Orson, and moved closer to Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles, saying quietly : 
 
 " And through that parting in the ranks there came, 
 Monsieur Vignolles ?" 
 
 " Ay, through that break in the circle strode the 
 leader of this thieving band, and at the sight I was 
 rooted to the ground, for what a figure to head such a 
 mob of cut-throats. In stature a full hand beneath me " 
 (Monsieur Vignolles was short and sensitive thereon), 
 " a mass of hair, black as the raven's wing, falling upon 
 the shoulders from beneath a cap of green velvet a 
 
 10
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 __^ ___________ 
 
 spray of pine twig stuck therein in place of a feather 
 eyes of hazel that seemed to pierce through my own. 
 This much I caught as she came toward me." 
 
 "She!" 
 
 The exclamation was general. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles well knew how to work up his 
 sensation, and, having attained it, enjoyed it to the full. 
 Therefore, he made some pretence of arranging his tat- 
 tered dress before replying. 
 
 " Did I not say 'twas a woman ? 'Twas an over- 
 sight, then. Ay, 'twas a woman, in truth, or, rather, a 
 girl, since I'll be sworn, scarce a score years have 
 weighed upon her." 
 
 " Another lady concerned in Monsieur Vignolles's 
 tale, and, like the one at Bouvignes, he probably chooses 
 to shield her name as well," cried d'Humbercourt ; but 
 there was small response to his jibe, save a titter from 
 those who invariably appreciate everything falling from 
 exalted lips. The company in general were by this time 
 fairly convinced that the narrative was genuine, and had 
 small patience for interruptions. 
 
 " Nay, my Lord d'Humbercourt, I make no attempt 
 to conceal the identity of this lady ; but pray let me pro- 
 ceed," answered Vignolles. " As I have said, I noted 
 what I have already told you as she came toward me; 
 also that her bodice and kirtle were of the same tree- 
 green with her cap, and that her legs and feet from 
 the knees were wound in thongs of deerskin. You may 
 deem me the fool, messieurs as indeed some of you 
 will but you may believe me in this, ne'er have I seen 
 such a beauteous creature as this renegade wench. The 
 tread of a deer, as you draw within bow-shot, and it 
 raises its head instinctive of danger, may nearest suf- 
 fice to show her carriage. Straight and fearless, she 
 3 II
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 came to take her place before me, and for an instant 
 stood looking me in the eyes. Then, with a gesture in 
 which there was much of grace, turned to those who so 
 had brought me to that plight. 
 
 " ' You have done well, comrades. No hair of the 
 fool's head has been harmed ? ' (I but repeat the words 
 she used.) 'His purse, I see, he still wears; but the 
 contents ' 
 
 " ' If there be any, such are there still, Marcelle,' an- 
 swered the one who had borne me o'er his back. 
 
 " My hand had flown to my purse at her words. 
 
 " ' I see all is well. Monsieur still has his store to 
 protect/ said the girl. ' You will relieve him of the 
 burden, Tite,' whereat the knave tore my purse from 
 me and handed it over to her ere I knew or realised 
 his object. Also some words passed between them which 
 I heard not. 
 
 ' We shall be able to put it to better uses than 
 you could by any possible chance, monsieur/ said the 
 girl, and quickly fell to counting the amount, which 
 done, she again turned upon me. 
 
 ' You come opportunely, monsieur/ she said ; ' since 
 for some days I have been on the watch for a suitable 
 messenger. From the device on your tunic, I divine 
 that you are vassal to the Count de St. Pol, and, con- 
 sequently, of that army which the Count de Charolais 
 is now mustering yonder at Namur/ 
 
 ( ' I wear no false colours/ I answered sourly 
 enough. 
 
 ' 'Tis as well that it is so, monsieur, else perchance, 
 having no use for you myself, my comrades might find 
 one/ she answered quickly, but scarce raising her voice. 
 ' Yet, since I have employment for you, you need have no 
 fear. You have but to take a message to the Count de 
 
 12
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 Charolais a message which, perchance, may cause you 
 some embarrassment in delivering, but such is of small 
 moment compared to what you will gain by complying 
 your life, I mean.' 
 
 " ' A message to Count Charles ! ' I exclaimed. ' In 
 the name of all the saints, what message ? ' 
 
 " ' That you shall know, monsieur, when you have 
 sworn to deliver it.' 
 
 "'And if I will not?' I said. 
 
 ' Then we shall find another more tractable,' she 
 replied, and, indeed, there was no mercy in the look she 
 gave me ; also I noted an uneasy movement and a surg- 
 ing toward me of the circle. 
 
 " My head dropped under her gaze, and methought 
 that, in truth, the game lay between accepting her com- 
 mission and dancing on air for a few moments under 
 one of the surrounding pines. 
 
 " ' You are a fool,' she said shortly, ' for no one, 
 save a fool, would have attempted the ride from Namur 
 to Bouvignes to-day. That you passed freely, you may 
 thank me, for up to the very walls a score of bows were 
 bent upon you awaiting my word. The device upon 
 your tunic told me, however, that you would return. 
 Yet I would know what brought you hither, monsieur. 
 You have searched him, Tite ? ' 
 ' Your orders were ' 
 
 " ' Then search him now.' And at that the rogue 
 again would have laid hands upon me, save that I cried : 
 
 " ' Enough enough ! I yield and will take such 
 message as you have to give me. What took me to 
 Bouvignes was but stay if there be any among your 
 company from Bouvignes, let him come where I may 
 speak into his ear.' 
 
 " And as it chanced, there was one from that town, 
 13
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 and, he coming forward sullenly enough, I did give him 
 such particulars of names and streets as convinced him 
 of the honesty of my visit. For a moment afterward 
 he conversed apart with the girl, Marcelle, and I credit 
 him with a proper account of me, for she turned and 
 said: 
 
 " ' Tis well, monsieur ; but though you shall be 
 spared a search, you shall swear to carry out your 
 compact.' 
 
 " And with that she did swear me by all the saints, 
 by St. Hubert, by Our Lady, and by the honour of my 
 mother to bear the word she gave me straight and truly 
 to Count Charles; then went on: 
 
 ' Then listen, Monsieur Vignolles ' 
 
 " ' So even my name is known to you/ I cried. 
 
 " ' 'Tis scrawled 'neath your saddle-flap, so Tite has 
 told me,' she answered drily. ' And now for the mes- 
 sage to the Count de Charolais. Tell him we have 
 heard of his threats against the Companions of the 
 Green Tent, and if he would have his answer soon, bid 
 him have regard for what shall pass over the walls of 
 Bouvignes this very night. Such is the word I send 
 him I, Marcelle the Mad.' " 
 
 " ' Marcelle the Mad ! ' " cried the company. 
 
 " Ay, for 'twas into none other's hands I had 
 fallen," answered Monsieur Vignolles ; " but, by my 
 faith, the very woodland breeze might have knocked me 
 over, for methought this mad woman some ill-favoured 
 wench of twoscore or thereabout. There were other 
 women on the outside of the circle, any one of whom 
 I would have picked as more likely to be Marcelle." 
 
 " Go on with your tale, monsieur," said the Sieur 
 Giraud. " What answer made you ? " 
 
 ( ' If that be all, I will take the message,' I said, 
 14
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 ' though 'tis naught but life could tempt me thereto, for 
 methinks you speak of some devil's work that will scarce 
 add to Count Charles's pleasure.' 
 
 ' You presume on the need I have of you to take 
 such tone, monsieur/ she said. ' Have a care lest you 
 go too far ! ' 
 
 " At the look in her eyes I held my tongue. 
 
 ' There is yet one other matter,' continued the girl, 
 drawing a folded parchment from her bosom. ' This 
 letter was taken from one of Count Charles's men a few 
 days ago by my orders. Even then I was seeking the 
 messenger I have found in you, Monsieur Vignolles; 
 but less fortunate than you, he was slain in the encoun- 
 ter that ensued on his seizure. I pray you give this 
 letter to the one to whom it is addressed. My compli- 
 ments also to Count Charles and the assurance that I 
 do not meddle with amours at his court, whatever else 
 he may hold against me.' 
 
 " I took the letter she proffered me, and, in truth, 
 the writing gave me a start, since I knew it as well as 
 my own. 
 
 ' You present your compliments,' I said, and 
 laughed. ' The compliments of the mad woman of the 
 Ardennes to the Count de Charolais. He will be flat- 
 tered, I'll be sworn.' 
 
 " For a moment her dark brows grew into a straight 
 line, and the mutter from the band grew loud in my ears. 
 Then she laughed ; but the laugh was harsh as she waved 
 them back. 
 
 ' ' His horse ! ' she cried, and one of the band brought 
 the beast to where I stood quickly enough, having kept 
 it behind the screen of trees directly on my right. Then 
 she went on: 
 
 1 ' Great as is Count Charles at Namur, you forget, 
 15
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 monsieur, that in these hills I am even greater for the 
 moment. But, fool though you are, you shall go. Bid 
 Count Charles remember well who sends him this word. 
 Comrades, that this dolt may not forget ere he reaches 
 Namur my name ! ' 
 
 " With one accord they tore off their caps and 
 shouted, ' Marcelle the Mad ! ' 
 
 " ' And a round of cheers for the Companions of the 
 Green Tent ! ' she added, smiling upon them. And the 
 very leaves were set rocking by the uproar that followed. 
 In truth, the love of the motley crew for this girl was 
 plain enough. 
 
 "And then, on a sign from her, they returned my 
 sword. I was again blinded by the sack, and climbed 
 into the saddle. My two arms were held by a rogue on 
 either side, while a third led my horse down, down wind- 
 ingly till I was turned into a path and loose at the same 
 moment. When I had freed my eyes I was alone, and 
 here I am." 
 
 He paused and wiped the moisture from his brow; 
 then drew a crumpled parchment from his jerkin and 
 spread it out. 
 
 The Sieur d'Orson gave a start and seemed about 
 to snatch it from him; then, with a baffled look, stood 
 shifting from one foot to the other. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles continued. 
 
 " My first duty is to Count Charles, yet, since we 
 are all so met here, this letter may take precedence." 
 
 He turned slowly and extended his hand to the Lady 
 Agathe. 
 
 " It bears your name, my lady," he said. " Let me 
 deliver it, then, to you, as I was sworn." 
 
 " Stay, monsieur ! " 
 
 As on one pivot, the whole company turned, and 
 16
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 there in the open doorway stood Count Charles himself 
 and behind him the Constable of France. In an in- 
 stant all had fallen back, as the count strode rapidly 
 forward. 
 
 " Your tale has been of much import, Monsieur Vig- 
 nolles," he snapped. " At least the latter half which I 
 caught, and it makes me curious to see that letter." 
 
 So saying, he took it from Monsieur Vignolles' trem- 
 bling hand, as the latter bowed confusedly. 
 
 " As for the verbal message, monsieur, you need not 
 repeat it," he said shortly, as he broke the seal of the 
 parchment. " You have truly had quite an adventure ; 
 I shall not forget the name Marcelle the Mad. Ha, 
 we shall see; we shall see and note as well what does 
 pass over the walls of Bouvignes this night." 
 
 With that he set himself to read, and, as he read, his 
 face darkened angrily. When ended, he crushed the 
 letter in his great fist. 
 
 "The Sieur d'Orson!" he cried. 
 
 He, so called, stepped forward. 
 
 " So 'tis thus you disobey me, sir ! What I have 
 ordered in Bruges seems, then, of no avail. When was 
 this letter written ? " 
 
 " A week ago, my lord count," replied the Sieur 
 d'Orson. 
 
 " When my Lady Agathe was en route hither, then ? 
 And you dared address yourself to her after what I had 
 commanded ! " 
 
 The count's rage was fearful to behold, and the Lady 
 Agathe shrunk before the look he threw her. 
 
 " I have no excuse, my lord, unless an honest attach- 
 ment be such," said the Sieur d'Orson quietly ; " yet, 
 before the court, my lady's name " 
 
 " Before the court, forsooth ! " cried the count. " And
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 have I not forbid enough in private your raising your 
 eyes to my Lady Agathe? Let us, then, make it as pub- 
 lic as possible. Know, once for all, that the hand of my 
 Lady Agathe is for another than one I have raised from 
 the ranks. Have I not, then, done enough to reward 
 you, sir, for the service you did me at Montlhery ? " 
 
 " Speak not of that, my lord count," said d'Orson 
 earnestly. He had saved the count's life in that battle. 
 
 " Nor will I again do so, Sieur Giraud d'Orson ! " 
 roared the count. " Moreover, know once more and for 
 all time, my will is to be obeyed. The Lady Agathe 
 weds on her return to Bruges. The constable and I have 
 so arranged it." 
 
 " On my return to Bruges ! " gasped the Lady 
 Agathe. 
 
 " I have said it. And now let the ladies retire." 
 
 He waved his hand imperiously, and, thoroughly 
 cowed by his manner, the ladies withdrew with such 
 trembling ceremony as they might muster. 
 
 " As for you, Sieur Giraud, look not above your posi- 
 tion, which is good enough, considering what you sprang 
 from," he added harshly, then turned to Monsieur Vig- 
 nolles : 
 
 " Curiously enough, monsieur, I may not vent my 
 wrath upon you, since the constable and I have just 
 made arrangements for your happiness, as well as that 
 of the Lady Agathe, and I would not ring a discordant 
 note." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud made a step forward. 
 
 " You mean, my lord " 
 
 " I mean that, on my return to Bruges, a marriage 
 will take place between the Lady Agathe de Laval of 
 Dauphine, my ward, and Monsieur le Comte de Nan- 
 teuil, now Monsieur Vignolles a fitting union of rank 
 
 18
 
 AS TOLD BY MONSIEUR VIGNOLLES 
 
 and fortune. My lord the constable is your good friend, 
 Monsieur Vignolles." 
 
 And noting the smug smile of satisfaction upon the 
 constable's face, there were many present who saw 
 through his aim, for the Lady Agathe of Dauphine 
 would be a power in his hands through her estates and 
 household. 
 
 " Yet, my lord, I may not I am not, as you say " 
 began Monsieur Vignolles in bewilderment. 
 
 " Count de Nanteuil, you would say ? " replied Count 
 Charles. " No, but my lord the constable will attend 
 to that once We have done with these Liegeoise fools. 
 And now, my lords and messieurs, to see what passes 
 over the walls of Bouvignes this night. Sieur Giraud, 
 do you take a few lances and scour the country, that 
 we may know soon, and I promise you such advance- 
 ment as will atone for your disappointment if you bring 
 me, living or dead, the body of this Marcelle the Mad."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 IN the growing dawn the river mist hung heavy over 
 the sleeping town as the Sieur Giraud led his men 
 toward the gate. The pace he made was but a 
 slow one, and his head was bent forward over 
 his pommel so that great drops of moisture from his 
 visor dripped occasionally upon the velvet covering of 
 his brigantine. With the score following him, he had 
 been in the saddle since Count Charles had ordered him 
 forth the night before, and one might have expected a 
 faster pace now that relief was in sight and the night's 
 work at an end. 
 
 By the Sieur Giraud's side rode another shorter and 
 altogether smaller figure, and this one, too, kept taut 
 rein on the mount he bestrode. He, as well, disdained 
 not a close-fitting coat of mail. Where any tree might 
 hide a lurking shadow with drawn bow, such was only 
 the part of discretion, and well these men knew this Ar- 
 dennes Forest, whence they were returning. At length 
 he spoke, this smaller of the two, after raising his head 
 and darting a searching look at his companion. 
 
 " Last night I believed my own tale had spelled my 
 ruin, despite anything the constable might do, Sieur 
 Giraud ; yet methinks what you have for Count Charles's 
 ear well, the saints are kind in sending it should be 
 you who bears him such report." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud raised not his gaze at the words, 
 and seemed so lost in thought that Monsieur Vignolles 
 
 20
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 for it was none other shrugged his shoulders and 
 again settled down in the saddle. Even as he did so, 
 however, the Sieur Giraud spoke in reply. 
 
 " You are gifted, Monsieur Vignolles, in seeing aught 
 of the saints' favour in my selection." 
 
 " Gifted forsooth, Sieur Giraud ; 'tis but common 
 sense. Did another carry such news to Count Charles, 
 even though 'tis no fault of the messenger, picture the 
 result. You know the man ne'er pauses to think once 
 his wrath is roused. Since the thing now has to be done, 
 I say again, 'tis well it is his favourite on whom the duty 
 falls." 
 
 This time the Sieur Giraud's head rose quickly. 
 
 " Bah ! Speak not of favourites, monsieur. Have 
 you so soon forgot Count Charles's tirade against me ? " 
 
 " The devil ! No, that I have not, since that matter 
 also concerns me, yet I'll be sworn 'twas but a passing 
 outburst brought on by the overhearing of my narrative. 
 The Count de Charolais forgets not such service as you 
 have rendered him, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 " Nor has he forgotten it, as, indeed, he threw in 
 my face. From plain man-at-arms I am become the 
 Sieur Giraud d'Orson, with eighty lances for command. 
 No, Monsieur Vignolles; my lord reckons the score 
 evened between us." 
 
 " Yet they tell me that at Montlhery you beat off a 
 body of the king's foot who had laid hands on Count 
 Charles and wellnigh dragged him to earth." 
 
 ' 'Twas small enough service, monsieur," replied the 
 Sieur Giraud, as if the memory of it was distasteful; 
 " and my lord himself would have accounted for them, 
 thrust through the neck though he was. That Jean 
 Cadet and myself came up at the moment was but hast- 
 ening the affair." 
 
 21
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles laughed shortly. 
 
 " There was no doubt among those present that the 
 affair was so hastened, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 " Even so, I tell you the debt has been paid in full 
 to my lord's way of thinking, and, after last night, I 
 would that some other brought him this report. "I would 
 as well that you, Monsieur Vignolles, had ne'er let the 
 swish of a kirtle lead you to Bouvignes yesterday. From 
 that folly has come this present plight," said the Sieur 
 Giraud. 
 
 " Ay, therein lies the plight of both of us, Sieur 
 Giraud." 
 
 The latter turned in the saddle and looked curiously 
 at the other before replying. 
 
 " Your pardon ; but I see not in what your plight 
 consists. It occurs to me that, thanks to my lord the 
 constable, your position leaves little to be desired, Mon- 
 sieur le Comte de Nanteuil that is to be." 
 
 The words were uttered half -mockingly, half-bitterly, 
 but Monsieur Vignolles seemed not to heed that. 
 
 " Think not I object to the advancement, Sieur 
 Giraud, since my lord the constable still has enough in- 
 fluence with the king to procure it for me. Methinks 
 the rank would not sit ill upon me," he said, and for a 
 moment straightened in the saddle with so much of lofti- 
 ness that his companion smiled. " No, 'tis not that, but 
 the other arrangement that weighs heavy upon me." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud brought his horse to almost a full 
 stop. 
 
 " You mean the Lady Agathe, monsieur ? " he said, 
 in a strained voice. 
 
 " Whom else ? " replied Monsieur Vignolles, his own 
 tone lowering lest the men behind should catch his 
 words. " With all thanks to my lord, the Count de St. 
 
 22
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 Pol, I would that he had left out that clause in making 
 his kind dispositions for me." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud wondered if the constable's efforts 
 had been so disinterested as Monsieur Vignolles believed. 
 With the wealth of the Lady Agathe transferred to his 
 own vassal, how strengthened would be his hand ! More- 
 over, it was generally believed that the constable's 
 exchequer was at a low ebb. This thought, however, 
 was but fleeting. What was incomprehensible to the 
 Sieur Giraud was that this man could repel, and repel 
 so lightly, such a match as had been arranged. At 
 length he found voice. 
 
 "And yet, Monsieur Vignolles, you are not blind to 
 the allurements of the sex; for instance, the lady of 
 Bouvignes, whose name you so nobly shielded " 
 
 " I deny it not," replied Monsieur Vignolles quickly, 
 and ignoring the reference. " By my faith, what man 
 at five-and-a-score years is so blind. There is such 
 charm about the whole sex that I should miss too much 
 were I shackled to any one." 
 
 " Yet the Lady Agathe is very beautiful," mused 
 the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Granted ; so beautiful that to profane such loveli- 
 ness by overindulgence were sacrilege itself," came the 
 ready reply. 
 
 " She is accomplished beyond most women, and of 
 gentle birth." 
 
 " Which but serves to render her proud and of a 
 haughtiness that pleases me but little. Saints! Did 
 you note her look at me when Count Charles made 
 known the arrangement, Sieur Giraud? 'Twas the look 
 one bestows on a dog." 
 
 " Since beauty nor birth makes no appeal to you, 
 monsieur, perchance riches will. The Lady Agathe had 
 
 23
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 from her father one of the greatest fiefs in all Dauphine," 
 said the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Ah, Sieur Giraud, that is another matter riches. 
 You are right. I am not disposed to speak ill of them 
 I, who am dependent upon what the constable may 
 throw me from his store," answered Monsieur Vignolles. 
 " Ay, did the Lady Agathe truly wish to buy me out- 
 right, perchance I might weaken; but I'll be sworn that 
 were I in a booth at the market marked one denier, she'd 
 laugh at the price. Methinks she might give that sum 
 for you, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, Monsieur Vignolles," replied 
 the latter. 
 
 ' Tis plain enough you have won favour in her 
 eyes," continued Monsieur Vignolles ; " and from what 
 Count Charles said, you have paid her some attention." 
 
 " So much that now I am even forbid speech with 
 her, as you know," was the grim reply. 
 
 For a moment they rode on in silence, then Monsieur 
 Vignolles turned and looked earnestly in the other's face. 
 
 " Does it, then, matter so much, Sieur Giraud ? " he 
 asked quietly. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud raised his clenched fist, but as 
 quickly lowered it. 
 
 " Matter so much ? Why, man, it's " 
 
 " Your pardon, Sieur Giraud. I am not of the court, 
 and knew not how far the affair had progressed. You 
 will cherish no ill-will toward me in the matter? As 
 I have said, any alliance is distasteful to me, and I would 
 keep my affections unfettered." 
 
 By now the cavalcade had come to the gate, and 
 while the barrier was being let down, the Sieur Giraud 
 seemed to meditate on the other's words; then said 
 suddenly : 
 
 24
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 " I own, monsieur, that I have taken small pleasure 
 in your company this night; nor, in truth, do I under- 
 stand even now why you joined me." 
 
 " I came by my lord the constable's orders, Sieur 
 Giraud," answered Monsieur Vignolles in a low tone. 
 " By my faith, I know not the why or wherefore, yet 
 methinks my lord doth cherish some distrust of you." 
 
 " Say, rather, would lay some trap for me, monsieur," 
 was the answer. " Until the Count de St. Pol came to 
 Bruges a month ago, my suit was never questioned by 
 Count Charles. Yet I see not the reason in his sending 
 you to play the spy upon me, now that all is settled." 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles straightened at the brand so put 
 upon him, and a gleam of anger flashed in his dark eyes. 
 
 " The Count de St. Pol is my lord and master, Sieur 
 Giraud d'Orson," he said coldly. " It is not for me to 
 question his affairs. Yet would I abjure allegiance to 
 any man who would set me to play the spy as you term 
 it upon another of the same party. If I have played 
 such part, it has been unwittingly, and I will not take 
 the word from you or any other. In an hour's time, 
 shall we say, here at the gates; the light will then be 
 better and " 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles, you are hasty ; yet, in truth, 
 'tis a haste I much admire ! " broke in the Sieur Giraud, 
 and for the first time his tone was warm. " I accused 
 you not of being the spy, save unwittingly, as you say ; 
 and that much I do adhere to. Methinks we are beyond 
 our depth in searching a reason for your being sent on 
 this errand. You asked me if I bore you any ill-will, 
 monsieur. Believe me, I do now esteem you above play- 
 ing aught than a fair game." 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles's anger had departed at the 
 words. 
 
 25
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " And, as well, Sieur Giraud, you know how detest- 
 able any union such as planned would be for me," he 
 said. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud nodded. 
 
 " Yet you will wed the Lady Agathe," he answered 
 with decision. 
 
 " I suppose I shall," said Monsieur Vignolles, and 
 shook his head dubiously. 
 
 And with that, the gates being opened, they clattered 
 through them and separated, the men going to stable 
 the horses, Monsieur Vignolles to seek such rest as he 
 might gain ere the constable's rising, and the Sieur 
 Giraud to deliver his report to Count Charles de Charo- 
 lais. 
 
 As he mounted the steps of the great house which 
 Count Charles had made his quarters, the reveille trum- 
 pets sent their call through the streets, and he paused 
 for a moment ere entering past the heavy-eyed archer 
 on guard. 
 
 From the doors of the houses where they were bil- 
 leted came sleepy figures in answer to the call. Beneath 
 the camp-wagons lining the roads, strange, huddled bun- 
 dles suddenly became alive and yielded each a man, 
 whose first thought on rising was to stretch himself 
 lazily, and whose second was to kick some still sleeping 
 mate into action. Men seemed to spring from the very 
 ground and rapidly formed shifting groups for the morn- 
 ing's muster, affording a spectacle of an apparently inex- 
 tricable tangle of men-at-arms, arquebusiers, constilliers 
 or light horse, pages, archers, and foot-soldiers. 
 
 Yet the disorder was apparent, not real. Lances 
 composed of eight soldiers fell together by fives to form 
 messes; these messes by fours joined their respective 
 squadron letters, and these squadrons, again by fours, 
 
 26
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 melted each into its proper company. It was the Sieur 
 Giraud's own company that so was mustered before 
 his gaze, and he took some pride as he noted the ease 
 with which 'twas done. The muster over, the groups dis- 
 solved as quickly. Two drunken roisterers, dragged 
 past by some men of the provost-marshal's guard, came 
 in for much boisterous comment and raillery from the 
 others. Poor devils! Already they were fairly sobered 
 by the thought of the score of lashes which awaited 
 them, for Count Charles had small mercy on those guilty 
 of excesses. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud turned abruptly from the moving 
 scene and entered the house. 
 
 To reach Count Charles's quarters, he must needs 
 traverse a long corridor, but he had made scarce half 
 the distance when he heard his name called, and pivoted 
 on his heel at the voice. 
 
 Coming swiftly toward him from the other side of 
 the hallway was the Lady Agathe, and behind her, at a 
 slower pace, the Countess de Laubec. 
 
 " My lady at this hour ! " was all he could find 
 words for as she came before him. 
 
 " Ah, what matters the hour ? " she cried, and he saw 
 that her eyes were red with much weeping, and that she 
 trembled while striving to conceal her agitation. " Sieur 
 Giraud, I I know not to whom else I may turn in my 
 extremity. For hours I have been watching from above 
 for your return. Ask Madame la Comtesse if it be 
 not so. I beg of you grant me a few moments' dis- 
 course." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud shot a glance up and down the 
 
 corridor. Save for the sentries, they were alone; but 
 
 he had in mind Count Charles's warning, and, though 
 
 'twas by none of his doing, knew full well what this 
 
 3 27
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 meeting would mean for him did it reach the count's 
 knowledge. Yet there was a note in the Lady Agathe's 
 voice, a note of distress, of anguish, that held him to 
 the spot. 
 
 " My Lady Agathe, willingly would I not only grant 
 but accept as the most priceless boon any discourse you 
 might accord me," he said. " Yet, I have my duty to 
 my lord, and, moreover, now do hasten to him with a 
 report which he must await with some impatience." 
 
 " I know, I know ! " she exclaimed. " Nor would 
 I be the one to jeopardize your position with my lord. 
 God knows, I fought against this very coming to you; 
 but there was no other course open. Ah, Sieur Giraud, 
 surely your report may wait long enough for you to hear 
 me!" 
 
 There was such trouble in her tone that he was put 
 to it to resist the appeal, and turned his gaze from hers 
 as he made answer: 
 
 " Nay, my Lady Agathe ; I am already in enough 
 disfavour. Whate'er a man might do to serve you, that 
 would I do; methinks you are aware of that. But this 
 matter, save it be one of life and death, which I do not 
 credit, cannot take precedence of my duty to my lord 
 count. Yet I will brave much to be of counsel or assist- 
 ance to you, my lady ; and once I have seen my lord, I 
 am at your service, cost what it may." 
 
 The loud tramp of approaching footsteps came to 
 their ears as he ended, and the Sieur Giraud started at 
 the sound. It was, of course, naught but the relieving 
 guard coming on duty, yet the officer in charge must not 
 see the ladies here in converse with him at this hour. 
 He turned hurriedly, and his hand fell upon the latch 
 of the door behind him. As he knew, it was but an ante- 
 room used by day for those who waited an audience of 
 
 28
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 Count Charles. He swung the door open, and a look 
 showed him that 'twas empty. 
 
 " For a moment till the guard be past ! " he cried 
 sharply, and fairly thrust the ladies within. As he 
 closed the door softly the captain of the guard, one 
 Chaubran, turned into the corridor with a file of men 
 at his heels. He saluted the Sieur Giraud as he came 
 abreast. 
 
 " You are early, Sieur Giraud," he said cheerily, " or 
 late, whiche'er it may be. Have you brought as an offer- 
 ing that witch of the Ardennes ? " 
 
 And then the Sieur Giraud remembered that the man 
 had been present in the assembly room the night pre- 
 vious, and thanked his fate that he had not seen the 
 Lady Agathe. 
 
 " No, monsieur ; the witch is still at large," he an- 
 swered with a laugh. "Yet I would see my lord count 
 at once." 
 
 " Impossible, Sieur Giraud," replied Chaubran 
 shortly. " He was engaged with my lord the constable 
 till the small hours, and his orders are peremptory for 
 quiet this morning. Not for the King of France him- 
 self would I rouse him." 
 
 " There you would err on the wrong side," said the 
 Sieur Giraud, thinking of the joy 'twould give Count 
 Charles just then to lay hands on the king. 
 
 " I take no chances," replied Chaubran. " In any 
 case, since you have not the wench, methinks your affair 
 may scarce suffer by delay." 
 
 And with that he marched on with his men, all of 
 them treading softly enough as they came opposite the 
 count's apartments. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud turned again to the door behind 
 him. Since he was so debarred from Count Charles, 
 
 29
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 he would hear what the Lady Agathe had to say to him, 
 what it was which had so greatly upset her calm. Ne'er 
 would he find a moment with less chance of discovery 
 by the count, and, besides, his heart yearned to give the 
 Lady Agathe comfort, and was beating faster than mere 
 sympathy would warrant. He pushed the door open and 
 stepped within quickly. 
 
 Fatal eagerness; unpardonable neglect! 
 
 Had he paused for a last reassuring look, ne'er would 
 he have entered, for he would have seen the tall figure 
 that had stopped suddenly at the far end of the corridor, 
 and was watching his movements with all closeness. But 
 the door closed as quickly behind him. The watching 
 figure delayed for a word with a sentry, whose talk 
 seemed pleasing from its reflection in his face. Then, 
 on silent feet, the figure stole to the door. 
 
 The Lady Agathe might now tell her tale; the door 
 was but thin, and none boasted keener hearing than 
 Louis de Luxembourg, Constable of France. 
 
 Meanwhile the Sieur Giraud had stepped quickly to 
 where the Lady Agathe and the Countess de Laubec 
 sat huddled together upon the great window-seat. The 
 former rose with a sharp cry, but the Sieur Giraud spoke 
 quickly before some half-formed words had left her lips. 
 
 " My lady, it seems that I may not have audience 
 of my lord count at once. I pray you, therefore, inform 
 me wherein I may be of service to you, yet as briefly 
 as may be, since at any moment I we may be inter- 
 rupted." 
 
 A pale ray of the early sun fell athwart the Lady 
 Agathe's face, accentuating the deep shadows beneath 
 her blue eyes and the look of worry and fatigue that 
 she wore. Yet the lines that were so apparent on the 
 features of the countess after her night's vigil were ab- 
 
 30
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 sent from the Lady Agathe's. Youth such youth as 
 hers has its privileges, and the Sieur Giraud swore to 
 himself that ne'er had he seen her so beautiful. Save 
 for the presence of the older woman, he would have 
 taken her hand in his own instinctively. 
 
 " Ah, Sieur Giraud, something kept telling me I 
 might count on your fidelity," she said, and there was 
 a real gladness in her voice. " Yes, yes ; I shall be as 
 brief as I may. Listen ! Last night, after you had gone 
 an hour or more it must have been a page brought 
 me word to attend immediately upon my lord count. 
 We had none of us retired after such excitement as we 
 had endured, and in fear and trembling I hastened 
 to obey the summons. Judge of my surprise when, 
 on being ushered into my lord's presence, I found 
 that the Count de St. Pol was also closeted with 
 him." 
 
 " The constable ! " exclaimed her listener. 
 
 " None other, and evidently the cause of my sum- 
 mons, if I might know from his satisfied expression. 
 His look gave me a courage I had not felt before, and 
 I turned with something of spirit to meet my lord's 
 harsh words; for such I fully expected, after his earlier 
 outburst. Yet they were not forthcoming, and he spoke 
 to me as gently as though I had been his own child. 
 Oh, ask me not to repeat all that he said ! Yet briefly, 
 'twas how he and the constable had had further discourse 
 regarding my disposal. Disposal; ay, that's what he 
 called it! That the constable had persuaded him that 
 'twere better the ladies of the court left Namur. The 
 army would move ere long, and it would be safer in 
 Bruges." 
 
 " Bruges ! So you are to return to Bruges ! " ex- 
 claimed the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 31
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " In two days' time after the arrival of Monseigneur 
 the Duke, so it has been arranged," she answered. " And 
 once there, what escape will there be for me from this 
 marriage. Ah! Can you not see, Sieur Giraud? It is 
 no concern for our safety, but merely the Count de St. 
 Pol's desire to to " 
 
 " To eliminate me from the game he plays," cut in 
 the Sieur Giraud. " Ay, my lady, that is plain enough ; 
 yet methinks my lord's commands to me should have 
 guaranteed that." 
 
 "And so I did testify; so I did say. Ah, what did 
 I not speak to those two! Did I not swear that rather 
 would I lie dead than be wedded to this man, whether he 
 were plain Monsieur Vignolles or Monsieur le Comte de 
 Nanteuil, which my lord constable would have him 
 created. Ay, and on my knees did I beg Count Charles 
 to release me from a betrothal so hateful." 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles has much to commend him, 
 my lady. I have made discovery of that," said the 
 Sieur Giraud, a grim smile fleeting over his features 
 for a moment at the thought of how mutually repellent 
 this arrangement was. 
 
 The Lady Agathe looked at him a moment in sur- 
 prise, then continued: 
 
 " I ne'er have heard you so speak of him before, 
 Sieur Giraud. I have known the man but a fortnight 
 have, indeed, scarce addressed a word to him; and yet 
 they would force me to such a marriage. I will have 
 none of it; that I swear to you." 
 
 " My lord refused you the release you craved ? " 
 asked the Sieur Giraud gently. 
 
 " With all decision, since my lord the constable turns 
 him to his own will at pleasure. Yet I denied that there 
 there was aught between us between you and me, 
 
 32
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 Sieur Giraud. It is not seemly that I so should tell you 
 this, but neither is it a time to throw too great a strain 
 on modesty. For answer they both laughed, but the con- 
 stable the loudest, and my lord count handed me the 
 letter which the mad woman of the hills took from your 
 messenger." 
 
 " You read it, my lady ! " exclaimed the Sieur Giraud, 
 uneasy despite his joy at the thought. 
 
 The Lady Agathe's head fell for a moment, and a 
 wave of colour swept aside the pallor of her cheek. 
 
 " I read it, Sieur Giraud read it while they watched 
 me with much complacency. You you were mad to 
 write such things," she answered brokenly. 
 
 " Ay, my lady, I was mad. Mad as I always have 
 been since first you came to court; mad as I am now 
 that you stand here before me " 
 
 She checked him sharply. 
 
 " I may not not listen now," she said. " Your 
 letter breathed a loyalty, Sieur Giraud, that I would 
 test to the utmost." 
 
 Her manner had changed, and she now spoke with 
 all the positiveness of a woman. 
 
 " I will not marry this Monsieur Vignolles ; I will 
 not be dragged to Bruges at the behest of the Count 
 .de St. Pol. Am I, then, a child to be driven against 
 my will? Ha! They should soon know, were my dear 
 father alive! None stood in greater favour with Count 
 Charles than he." 
 
 " Yet my lord count would force this match upon 
 you, my Lady Agathe," said the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Because 'tis the constable's will o'erriding his own," 
 she answered in all anger. " Yet shall it not avail them, 
 for this day I return to Dauphine. And you shall aid 
 me, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 33
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 He started and looked at her to see if she, in truth, 
 spoke seriously. Her expression left him in no doubt. 
 
 " Dauphine, Dauphine, my lady ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Ay, Dauphine, where at least I shall be at home 
 and mistress of myself, Sieur Giraud," she replied. 
 " Would that I had never dreamed of the splendours 
 of this court and been content with what I had. But 
 that is now ended. To-day I again become free, if you 
 will help me." 
 
 " Much would I do for you, my lady, but " 
 
 " There were no ' buts ' in the letter I read, Sieur 
 Giraud," she said, and for a moment her eyes met his. 
 
 " Yet were the thing possible, my lady " he said 
 hesitatingly. " But no, 'tis madness to dream of it, to 
 escape unnoticed from such an armed town as this one." 
 ' 'Tis the very fact that it is an armed town that 
 renders the task the easier," she said. " To-day this 
 morning, at the hour of ten, my lord reviews the army 
 on the plain by the river; that you know. The town 
 will therefore be stripped of soldiers." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud nodded, and she went on rapidly: 
 
 " Count Charles, the constable, and every officer and 
 man available will be in the field." 
 
 " Including myself, my lady," he said in a puzzled 
 tone. 
 
 " Wherein will lie your freedom from suspicion, 
 Sieur Giraud. Throughout this long night have I con- 
 jured up this plan, and, believe me, 'twill succeed," she 
 made answer. " 'Tis not much I have to ask of you 
 not the half your letter would warrant, yet am I lost 
 without your support. Five horses must I have for my- 
 self and those who go with me. By the half hour before 
 ten these must be ready, saddled, and awaiting one whom 
 I shall send for them." 
 
 34
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 Light was beginning to dawn on the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " And you would have me procure these mounts, 
 my Lady Agathe ? " he said slowly. 
 
 " No other course remains me but to ask it of you," 
 she answered. " That I am now watched I know only 
 too well. My own horses are stabled with those of my 
 lord, and I dare not call for them without his knowledge. 
 Ah, Sieur Giraud, what is it I ask what are five horses ? 
 Easily enough you may replace the ones taken from your 
 own company by seizing others. Oh ! I care not how 
 you do it; but surely you will not deny me this little I 
 demand." 
 
 But the Sieur Giraud shook his head gloomily. 
 
 " The matter of the horses, perchance, might be easily 
 managed," he said ; " yet would you try to reach 
 Dauphine with but four as an escort ? Who are the four ? " 
 
 " Madame la Comtesse here " 
 
 " And one of the four a woman ! " he muttered. 
 
 " And three stout bowmen who bore me company 
 when I came north," she said, heedless of his interrup- 
 tion. " 'Tis to one of these, Jean Bonnot, I would have 
 you deliver over the horses. All who could or would 
 stop me will be afield; the sentries at the gates will 
 scarce stop the Lady Agathe and escort from riding 
 forth to witness the review, and by noon, when you 
 return, we shall be leagues away." 
 
 She was in deadly earnest, and her eyes burned on 
 his as he met their gaze. Truly, this projected mar- 
 riage was even more distasteful to the Lady Agathe 
 than to Monsieur Vignolles, and as he realised the full- 
 ness of this, the heart of the Sieur Giraud bounded 
 within him. 
 
 Why should he not do as she asked? There was 
 small risk in the act. Spare horses there were in plenty 
 
 35
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 in his own company, and he could replace those taken 
 with others that he would buy outright from the towns- 
 people. As for the journey to Dauphine, the country 
 was quiet enough once they should be clear of this tur- 
 bulent district, and he dismissed his first fears in that 
 regard. Was he, then, to be an idle spectator of the 
 hounding of this lady into a loathsome marriage? 
 
 The Lady Agathe's small foot was tapping the floor 
 impatiently. 
 
 " My lady, I accept the charge," he said slowly. 
 " The mounts shall be ready at the half hour before 
 ten. A man I may trust will hold them at your dis- 
 posal where the street just behind this house meets the 
 cliff. 'Tis some hundred paces from here, but the dis- 
 tance will render it the more secure from notice. I pray 
 you send your man Bonnot there on the moment. God 
 grant that you may get safely away ! " 
 
 A great sigh of mingled gladness and relief escaped 
 her, and instinctively she put out her hand. The Sieur 
 Giraud sank to his knee and for a moment his lips were 
 pressed upon it ; then his gaze rose to meet hers as she 
 looked down upon him, a smile of much tenderness, he 
 thought, upon her face. 
 
 " Perchance, my lady," he said softly, " perchance, 
 should you come through it safely, some time in Dau- 
 phine 
 
 " Perchance, Sieur Giraud, perchance," she almost 
 whispered; then slowly withdrew her hand as he rose. 
 
 He stepped to the door and threw it open for their 
 passage, this time after a glance without to assure him- 
 self that the way was clear. But the constable was no 
 man to be caught; he had hurried away the moment 
 before. 
 
 In another moment the ladies had passed from view, 
 36
 
 WHAT THE CONSTABLE HEARD 
 
 yet not without a backward look over the shoulder from 
 the Lady Agathe that repaid his watching-. 
 
 With a quickened pulse the Sieur Giraud wheeled 
 and made a pace toward the door leading without. As 
 he did so he saw the Constable of France enter and 
 stand in seemingly casual converse with a captain of 
 horse. The next instant his own name was called, and 
 he turned upon a page who desired, by order, his imme- 
 diate attendance upon Count Charles de Charolais. 
 
 37
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 RAGE AND RUIN 
 
 THE fact that Count Charles was in a good 
 humour served to somewhat hearten the Sieur 
 Giraud for what he had to convey to him re- 
 garding- the night's work. 
 
 In truth, the count seemed much pleased with him- 
 self this morning. A lackey had just handed him his 
 sword, and having adjusted it to his proper liking, he 
 was regarding his image in the steel mirror before him 
 with a look almost of complacency upon his bold fea- 
 tures. Evidently his prolonged session with the con- 
 stable had been pleasing enough. He turned his head 
 as the Sieur Giraud entered, and briefly acknowledged 
 the latter's salute. 
 
 " Ha ! You are betimes, Sieur Giraud. The hands 
 of the clock have scarce moved since I summoned you. 
 Such readiness is indeed pleasing," he said gaily. 
 
 " I fear my lord count gives me too much credit, 
 since for some time I have been awaiting an audience, 
 and had but to traverse the corridor." 
 
 " Say, rather, too little credit, then, since I have kept 
 you waiting, Sieur Giraud," replied Count Charles gra- 
 ciously. " What news do you bring me? Your face was 
 ever a hard one to read ; but tell me only that you have 
 taken that she-devil of the hills yonder, who calls herself 
 Marcelle, and name your own reward. By St. Hubert, 
 one wench such as she is capable of more deviltry than 
 a score such knaves as she leads ! " 
 
 38
 
 RAGE AND RUIN 
 
 The Sieur Giraud shook his head. 
 
 " No, my lord ; none so good fortune attended us," 
 he replied. " The cursed country south of here is one 
 vast warren with deep-cut streams and broken ridges, 
 covered thick with underbrush and black with the 
 shadows of the forest. To ride such country by day 
 is impossible, my lord; by night, 'tis the attempt of a 
 madman. Yet I have tried, but the wolves have taken 
 a safe earth. 'Twould require an army to beat the forest 
 of Ardennes." 
 
 As he had spoken Count Charles had listened atten- 
 tively, and now nodded. 
 
 " You speak the truth, I know full well, Sieur 
 Giraud," he said. " Nor would I have set you such a 
 task save for for the temper I was in last night, and 
 yet I would give much to lay hands on this Marcelle 
 the Mad, as she calls herself." 
 
 This was nearer an apology than any words the Sieur 
 Giraud had ever heard from Count Charles, and as he 
 bowed low he marveled thereat. Would he go further 
 and speak of the Lady Agathe ? But no ; the count con- 
 sidered that passage forever closed in the lives of both 
 of them. This was evident in his next speech. 
 
 " Your errand, then, was wholly without result, Sieur 
 Giraud ? You learned naught of that mysterious ' some- 
 thing ' which was to pass over the walls of Bouvignes 
 last night ? " 
 
 Though the man had nerved himself to the recital, 
 though he had been rehearsing the best manner of its 
 telling, now, brought face to face with actuality, he hesi- 
 tated. The count was quick to note this and whirled 
 upon him in some impatience, and the Sieur Giraud 
 caught the quick gleam in his dark eyes and the slight 
 quiver in his nostrils. 
 
 39
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " You understood me, Sieur Giraud ? " he said 
 sharply. 
 
 Any further faltering would only have served to 
 make matters worse; but adieu the well-planned recital; 
 adieu the carefully chosen words. The Sieur Giraud 
 plunged boldly at it. 
 
 " I understood, my lord count," he replied. " Ay, 
 'tis true, we did Monsieur Vignolles and myself learn 
 something of what passed over the walls of Bouvignes." 
 
 " Ah, then your mission has not been devoid of all 
 fruit ! " exclaimed Count Charles. " And what was this 
 mystic something which the mad woman deemed of such 
 interest to me ? " 
 
 " It was an effigy, my lord." 
 
 Count Charles was silent a moment, then shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 " Ha ! Tis ever the resort of fools ! " he cried. " An 
 effigy of myself, I suppose ? " 
 
 Sieur Giraud bowed. 
 
 " And you learned this ? " continued the count. 
 
 " From an old vine-grower, at whose house Monsieur 
 Vignolles and I made inquiries, some three leagues south 
 on the road to Dinant. The thing seems to have been 
 planned for days, and is common knowledge thereabouts. 
 Also, from the same source, we learned something of 
 this woman of the hills and her company." 
 
 Count Charles made a gesture of contempt. 
 
 " The Companions of the Green Tent," he said 
 sneeringly. " Companions of the gibbet they shall be- 
 come ere long ! " 
 
 " The band led by this Marcelle the Mad is but a 
 small part of the rabble claiming the name, my lord 
 count," said the Sieur Giraud. ' The woods of the Ar- 
 dennes are infested with the breed some thousands, I'll 
 
 40
 
 RAGE AND RUiN 
 
 be sworn, and, from the vine-grower's tale, a terror to 
 both the people of Dinant and to the countryside." 
 
 " They shall pay for it, have no fear, Sieur Giraud," 
 snapped Count Charles. " They are of that accursed 
 town of Dinant, these ' Companions.' That town has 
 thrown defiance at us long enough. Well you know 
 how its pig-headed people have raised a feud with our 
 town of Bouvignes, so that now no man's life is safe in 
 these hills." 
 
 " Yet common report has it that 'twas Bouvignes that 
 was the aggressor, my lord count," ventured the Sieur 
 Giraud. 
 
 ' 'Tis a lie ! " roared the count, whose anger at the 
 very mention of Dinant knew no limits. ' 'Tis a lie, I 
 tell you! Ah, wait; wait till Monseigneur the Duke 
 arrives. He would not miss it for worlds, and so I 
 delay; yet when I strike Dinant will never forget the 
 blow. They look to Louis for aid. Bah! He is too 
 intent on stealing my northern provinces to spare them 
 a thought." 
 
 He broke off abruptly and fell to pacing the floor. 
 As for the Sieur Giraud, he kept a discreet silence. Full 
 well he knew that the affair about Bouvignes was but 
 a fight born of trade jealousy. Full well he knew that 
 the people of Bouvignes, long envious of the prosperity 
 of Dinant, of its great copper industry of Dinanderie, 
 had in petty spite flung a blazing effigy of Louis over 
 the walls of Dinant some weeks before. What more 
 natural than the retaliation of which he had just learned. 
 He knew as well, did the Sieur Giraud, how the whole 
 trouble had arisen from the appointment of Louis de 
 Bourbon to the Bishopric of Liege. All this the Sieur 
 Giraud knew, yet, being less than a fool, kept silent. 
 
 Count Charles suddenly came to a stop before him. 
 41
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " This effigy ; you know who had a hand in that, 
 Sieur Giraud ? " he asked. 
 
 " Its maker, as well as the leader of the band which 
 bore it to Bouvignes, was one Gaspard Lenoir, an artisan 
 of Dinant. So much the old man told me under com- 
 pulsion. A mere boy I judge him to be from his descrip- 
 tion." 
 
 " And well chosen for the deed, since 'tis but boy's 
 play," said the count shortly. " I shall remember the 
 name Gaspard Lenoir. You have done well, Sieur 
 Giraud. You may withdraw and are excused from the 
 manoeuvres, in view of your night's work. So they find 
 an effigy of me pleasing, do they? We shall see how 
 they take the original before many days." 
 
 The count's mind would revert to that insult, lightly 
 though he affected to take it. The Sieur Giraud stood 
 a moment undecided, then spoke in low voice: 
 
 " It is of that I had not finished speaking, my lord 
 count," he said. 
 
 Count Charles, with a surprised look, motioned him 
 to proceed. 
 
 " The effigy was first set ablaze ere being tossed over 
 the wall, my lord, and " 
 
 " I had supposed as much," cut in the count quickly. 
 
 " It was dressed in a semblance of your costume, my 
 lord," continued the Sieur Giraud, feeling desperately 
 for his words ; " and attached to it was a shield bearing 
 an escutcheon." 
 
 " Let them beware how they play with my shield ! " 
 said Count Charles grimly. 
 
 " My lord, 'twas not your shield, though proper for 
 it, save save " 
 
 " Save what, Sieur Giraud ? " exclaimed the count. 
 
 " Save that it bore the bend sinister, my lord count." 
 42
 
 RAGE AND RUIN 
 
 It had come out at last. The Sieur Giraud waited 
 for the outburst, yet for a full moment not a sound 
 broke the stillness save the noises of the street beneath. 
 Then, with the roar of a maddened bull, Count Charles 
 relaxed all hold on himself. 
 
 " So ! These Dinant pigs be not content with casting 
 derision upon me, but must needs have their accursed 
 fling at the honour of my mother. A bastard they would 
 label me, eh? Then by that name they have thought to 
 blacken, by the fair name of my house, and by God, no 
 longer may they look for mercy ! " 
 
 The Sieur Giraud fell back before him, for the great 
 bulk of the man and his transformed features threw a 
 wave of fear into his veins. Angry outbursts were com- 
 mon enough with Count Charles, but ne'er had the Sieur 
 Giraud seen him wholly mad before. His teeth ground 
 savagely together, and his great hands were clenched till 
 the very bones threatened to crack with the strain. 
 
 " And I had meditated punishment in ordinary upon 
 these fools, these defamers ! " roared the count. " By 
 Our Lady, now have my eyes been opened! For this 
 outrage upon my house Dinant shall give its very life, 
 its very existence. Not one stone shall remain on an- 
 other of all its walls ; not one roof above the earth ; and 
 by God ! such survivors as there may be after I am done 
 I will scatter to the four winds ! Dinant shall become as 
 a desert, and its very name synonymous with desolation 
 and misery ! " 
 
 His hand now was fumbling nervously at his hilt. 
 By a great effort he steadied himself long enough to say, 
 as he waved the Sieur Giraud from the room : 
 
 " This is no idle boast, Sieur Giraud. You shall see 
 its fulfilment, I promise you. And now go; I would 
 be alone." 
 
 4 43
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 And the Sieur Giraud tarried not an instant, but 
 backed through the door and rapidly made for the en- 
 trance. As he did so the constable passed him and 
 acknowledged his salute with a smiling face. 
 
 With the pleasant consciousness of an ugly business 
 ended, the Sieur Giraud made his way quickly through 
 the crowds of soldiery till he came to the street where 
 the horses of his company were quartered. There was 
 now only on his mind the matter of those mounts for 
 the Lady Agathe, and that, with the aid of a man-at- 
 arms who held him in high favour, he speedily arranged. 
 For himself he had no mind to take advantage of Count 
 Charles's offer to relieve him from duty at the review. 
 It was policy for him to be there, as the Lady Agathe 
 had said. With that in mind, he devoted the time until 
 the half hour before ten to inspecting his men and then 
 mounted, leaving orders for the formation of his com- 
 mand, and rode slowly toward the count's quarters. 
 
 As he drew rein at the door the count himself came 
 to the window and beckoned him to enter. Dismounting 
 and handing his rein over to a lackey, he made haste 
 to comply. 
 
 As he entered he was glad to note that Count 
 Charles's anger had seemingly spent itself, yet he seemed 
 strangely uneasy, and looked ever and anon from the 
 window as though expecting some one. 
 
 " You have not seen fit to forego the pleasure of 
 manoeuvres under this sun, Sieur Giraud," he said with 
 perhaps a trace of irony in his tone. " By my faith, were 
 all of your temper, we should soon need no morning 
 call!" 
 
 " A night in the saddle was scarce enough to warrant 
 such retirement, my lord count," answered the Sieur 
 Giraud. 
 
 44
 
 RAGE AND RUIN 
 
 " Some would have found such a night's experience 
 quite sufficient reason, Sieur Giraud," replied the count 
 drily and in such strange tone that the Sieur Giraud 
 looked furtively at him as he again shot a glance from 
 the window. 
 
 " Yet I have never found you aught than faithful, 
 Sieur Giraud," continued Count Charles. " Let me see ; 
 your father was a physician at Paris, was he not ? " 
 
 " He was at the bedside of King Charles VII. in his 
 last illness, my lord count," replied the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " An honour, indeed ; yet methinks were he alive 
 to-day he would be proud of what you have come to 
 at seven-and-a-score years what I have made you, 
 would he not, Sieur Giraud ? " 
 
 " He would, my lord count," was the puzzled answer, 
 for the motive of this questioning was not clear. 
 
 " And he would marvel that such preference could 
 be attained in the three years you have been attached 
 to me ? " persisted Count Charles. " And consider that 
 such advancement was deserving of the utmost devotion 
 and submission to its donor ? " 
 
 " He could not think otherwise, my lord," and again 
 there was wonderment in his tone as to what all this 
 was leading. 
 
 At that moment there came the clatter of hoofs from 
 without, and again the count looked down upon the 
 street. The Sieur Giraud made no doubt these were 
 the mounts for Count Charles and his staff for the 
 review. 
 
 " Then, since your father would have deemed such 
 return only fair for so great profit, there must be little 
 of his blood flowing in your veins, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 The words fell with icy coldness from the count's 
 lips as he turned and faced the other. 
 
 45
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I I do not understand, my lord," he faltered. 
 
 Count Charles stamped his spurred heel viciously, as 
 though treading life from some crawling thing. 
 
 " Whatever else you may be, you have never shown 
 yourself the pure fool, save in respect to the one thing 
 I have in mind, Sieur Giraud," he said. " You lie when 
 you say you do not understand, or else you are become 
 of a sudden duller than the dullest. In that event, you 
 will require awakening." 
 
 He clapped his hands heavily, and a page entered by 
 a side door even as he ended. 
 
 " My compliments to the Lady Agathe de Laval and 
 Madame la Comtesse de Laubec, and that I beseech 
 their instant attendance ere I set out for the field." 
 
 The page backed from the room with lowered head. 
 As for the Sieur Giraud, he stood lost in conjecture. 
 Clearly Count Charles knew something, but how much? 
 As they waited the coming of the ladies, the count 
 whimsically slashed at flies as they darted about the 
 room and paid no heed to his companion. An instant 
 summons from the count meant naught else, and a mo- 
 ment or two only had passed when the Lady Agathe 
 entered, followed by the older woman. The former gave 
 a start on seeing the Sieur Giraud present, though it was 
 but passing. 
 
 " You have word for us, my lord count ? " she asked, 
 turning her gaze straight into the count's. 
 
 He swept her from head to foot with one hawklike 
 glance. 
 
 " You have anticipated the very request I had to 
 make, it seems, my Lady Agathe, which was that you 
 don riding costume and join me at the review," he said, 
 and pointed to the booted foot, which showed its tip 
 beneath the hem of her riding kirtle. 
 
 46
 
 RAGE AND RUIN 
 
 The Lady Agathe gasped faintly and the colour fled 
 from her face. 
 
 " My lord, I I would pray to be excused. My 
 head " 
 
 " Is whirling, no doubt, my lady," he snapped sud- 
 denly. " And does Madame la Comtesse suffer from the 
 same sudden attack ? " 
 
 But this poor soul could think of naught to say, and 
 so swept him a most profound courtesy. 
 
 Count Charles abandoned his false manner. 
 
 " Enough of this, my ladies ! Think you to carry 
 on your precious schemes behind my back ? " he cried. 
 " Know, then, that I know all. So bold a plan this was, 
 though, that I questioned the report of it laid before 
 me. But look you here you, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 He motioned the latter to the window. 
 
 " See you those mounts below ? " 
 
 A glance sufficed the Sieur Giraud. They were the 
 very beasts he had sent to the rendezvous for the use of 
 the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " Ha ! You need not answer. I see 'tis not your 
 first view of them." 
 
 He turned again to the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " As for you, my lady, and you, Madame la Com- 
 tesse, a pity 'twere to render the task of donning such 
 costumes wholly fruitless. You shall indeed ride the 
 horses the Sieur Giraud has so kindly provided, and 
 you shall see as much of the manoeuvres as your sur- 
 rounding escort will allow. Unfortunately, our field lies 
 not in the direction of Dauphine." 
 
 The Lady Agathe had recovered something of her 
 spirit. 
 
 " The work of some sneaking spy, my lord count ! " 
 she said bitterly enough. 
 
 47
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Yet useful in this instance, my Lady Agathe. I beg 
 of you cloak yourselves, my ladies, with such expedition 
 as may be, for I hear my own horses now coming from 
 the stables." And imperiously he waved them forth, but 
 as the Lady Agathe went her eyes were fixed on the 
 Sieur Giraud's, and in her look was a mighty, swelling 
 plea for forgiveness. 
 
 The door had hardly closed upon them when Count 
 Charles addressed himself to the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " For less offence than you have given I have hanged 
 some, Sieur Giraud," he said. " I spare you, perchance 
 because I cannot forget that day at Montlhery, yet I 
 will have no man about me to whom my word is not 
 law. The obedience I demand must be blind; I want 
 no reasons ; I will have no contention. Of the four roads 
 from Namur take your choice, and thank God you are 
 permitted so to do. You have done me some good ser- 
 vice, and for it I have squared the account by raising you 
 above older men who have been longer of my household. 
 You lacked appreciation, and now it is finished. A 
 guard awaits you without; they will escort you through 
 the gates. Adieu, Sieur Giraud ! " 
 
 For a moment the man staggered beneath the blow 
 so swiftly dealt. He raised his head and seemed about 
 to speak. Count Charles's whip pointed inexorably to 
 the door. 
 
 And thus the Sieur Giraud, ruined in fortune, 
 stripped of the authority he had so briefly enjoyed, and 
 crushed in spirit, reeled heavily from the presence of 
 his former master. Nor till the gates were at his back 
 did he come to full realisation of his misfortune and 
 disgrace. 
 
 48
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 SAVE for the distant murmur of a depleted hill 
 stream tumbling lazily along its rock-strewn 
 bed, an oppressive stillness was in the air. 
 High above in the fleckless blue a white sun 
 glowed consumedly, and in the open beneath all things 
 shimmered in the quivering heat waves that rose from 
 the arid earth. 
 
 Yet under the great green roof of the forest of Ar- 
 dennes was a cool freshness in utter contrast with con- 
 ditions without. Such few rays of sunlight as forced a 
 passage through the motionless canopy fell in but weak 
 and scattered patches on undergrowth and sward. 
 
 An ideal retreat this on such a day, one might say ; 
 and so, in truth, seemed to think the score or more 
 ragged and unshaven men who sprawled in various 
 attitudes in that part of the forest overlooking Dinant. 
 Little there was of agreement in their dress, though 
 they were of one band ; and, withal, much that was ludi- 
 crous, for he who boasted doublet of superfine quality 
 was quite likely to suffer sadly as to hose, while his 
 neighbour, sporting the hose which properly belonged 
 with the doublet, completed his attire with the rough, 
 leathern jerkin of an artisan. Some were barefoot; the 
 legs and feet of others rudely bound with thongs of 
 deerskin, and clearly each had habited himself in accord- 
 ance with some system of spoil and in such apparel as 
 
 49
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 had fallen to his share. But one token they bore in com- 
 mon, the twig of pine which adorned their caps. And 
 yet these vagabonds, despite their wretched state, were 
 happy most outright vagabonds are if one might 
 judge by their general hilarity, an hilarity which scarce 
 seemed shared by the few half-starved dogs which were 
 curled up in their midst and slept with ever a wary eye 
 upon their guardians. 
 
 At a little distance from the men sat a small knot of 
 women, some half dozen slatternly, unkempt creatures, 
 who busied themselves over some steaming mixture in 
 a great kettle over the fire. There was youth in the 
 figures and movements of some of these ; but age, a cruel 
 age, had set its mark upon their faces, and hardship had 
 ground enduring lines where flesh should have been 
 smooth. Yet even these women were for the moment 
 heedless of the past forgetful of the miseries which had 
 driven them to this life of wild beasts. Obviously, affairs 
 must have been prosperous with this band of Compan- 
 ions of the Green Tent, for such they were. 
 
 " Faith, and when shall we repeat the stroke of yes- 
 terday, comrades ? " cried a rather sullen-looking man 
 of hardly twoscore and ten who formed one of a group 
 of five playing at cards in the very centre of the com- 
 pany. He paused in the act of dealing and added: 
 
 " Six rolls of velvet, a double handful of golden 
 crowns, two as good horses as there are in Burgundy ; 
 'twas a rich haul, Tite, and may St. Hubert bless you 
 for the gift of these cards ! " 
 
 There was a hum of approval on his ending, as he 
 dealt the cards rapidly around the circle. The one ad- 
 dressed as Tite, a wrinkled and gray-haired man of nigh 
 threescore, looked up as he gathered in his portion. 
 
 " Well may you say so, Crepin, since, if I know 
 50
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 aught of cards, these have cost my lord the bishop scarce 
 less than a score sols parisis the pack," he answered, and 
 added : " And when I laid my first stake 'twas on a pack 
 with no queen, but chevalier instead; so you may know 
 how many years I've handled them. But ne'er before 
 have such as these come my way." 
 
 The other players laughed as he threw a card into 
 the centre and placed two coins before him, as showing 
 his stake. In truth, 'twas an outrage for such hands 
 to defile the gold and resplendent painting these cards 
 bore. One might well believe Tite's estimate of their 
 cost in Paris. 
 
 Crepin slapped the cards he held against his hand. 
 
 " Methinks the bishop will suffer greater woe in the 
 loss of these than he would in the Pope's curse," he 
 cried. 
 
 " To the devil with my lord the bishop ! " growled 
 another of the players, one Andre Vaucler, a former 
 master artisan in brass work. " Why should he have a 
 thought? Has he ever spared one for us, save to drive 
 us the farther toward ruin?" 
 
 An ugly murmur of assent greeted the words. 
 
 " You have reason, Andre," cried Poncet Meux, an- 
 other former metal worker. " Let the bishop take to 
 dice if he must game. But, by my faith, I'd like to see 
 his face when he hears of how his messenger was 
 served." 
 
 " He won't hear, boy," said Tite quietly, paying over 
 to Crepin what he had just lost. " He won't hear ; at 
 ' least, not for some time, since a clout on the head will 
 keep the man in Bouvignes a fortnight. 'Twas thither 
 I took him on his own horse and left him at handy dis- 
 tance to the walls." 
 
 " The more fool you ! " exclaimed Crepin in a surly 
 51
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 voice. " A knife between the ribs was his desert ; but 
 you always play the " 
 
 The hand of Tite fell roughly on his shoulder and 
 he started quickly, while his hand stole to his belt. 
 
 " Look you here, Crepin Brune," said Tite in an 
 even tone, " when you were born I was trying to forget 
 the things you think to know. There is one in our com- 
 pany who may pass upon my conduct, and that one is 
 not you, Crepin. Marcelle is satisfied ; therefore, do you 
 hold your tongue. What I wanted, that I had from the 
 bishop's messenger, whom chance and his own stupidity 
 in choosing such a route threw in my way. I had no 
 use for the fool's life. When you have done aught to 
 warrant it, then may you talk as you list, but till then 
 ne'er again speak to me as you have. And," he added, 
 as he caught the other's motion, " take your hand from 
 that knife, lad, lest you cut yourself." 
 
 A roar of laughter greeted this sally, and Crepin's 
 hand left his belt. It had been the action of a dolt, in 
 truth, since Tite was the idol of all the rest. Yet the 
 man's face was lowering, and an ugly gleam was in his 
 eye as he growled : 
 
 " From you I'll take the words, Tite ; but you'll know 
 some day which is the better man of us." 
 
 And at that another burst of shouting arose, and 
 Crepin threw down his cards angrily and rose to his 
 feet. At the sound of the laughter one of the women 
 came up to the group, and, as Crepin ended, her harsh 
 voice rang out in derision. A great, coarse woman was 
 this one, who towered over Crepin as she planted herself 
 before him, arms akimbo and head bent mockingly to 
 one side. As a delicate tribute to her Amazonian pro- 
 portions, she passed by the name of Petite Maman. 
 
 " Is it so, Crepin ? " she cried. " We have to choose 
 52
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 'twixt you and Tite some day? Well, so be it. Here- 
 with and now I do cast my vote." 
 
 With that she bent quickly and thrust the end of the 
 twig she carried into Tite's mouth. With the utmost 
 complacency Tite bit off the piece of deer meat and, 
 throwing the stick to one side, chewed away with an 
 epicurean air. 
 
 " Bravo, Petite Maman ! " shouted Bonne Fleuron, 
 the youngest of them all, from where she stood at the 
 kettle. " My vote the same way, Tite." 
 
 " And mine, and mine ! " came in one laughing 
 breath from Ulrique Cadet and Celie Lespere. 
 
 Petite Maman extended her arms to Crepin and cried 
 mockingly : 
 
 " You see the Fates are against you, Crepin ; yet 
 come Petite Maman will be more kind." 
 
 " To the devil with you, you hag ! " growled Crepin 
 sourly, while the others roared at Petite Maman's air 
 of entreaty and the supplication in her ugly features. 
 
 " Much would I give to know why you should give 
 yourself such airs, Crepin Brune," she said with much 
 contempt, and then turned again to Tite. " But more 
 would I give to know whether the stew be cooked to 
 your liking, Tite." 
 
 He looked up at her as she stood awaiting his verdict. 
 
 " Ne'er have I tasted meat of such a flavour, Petite 
 Maman," he said, and smacked his lips. 
 
 " There, do you hear that, you others ? You, Crepin, 
 do you hear ? " cried the woman. " He swears to like 
 it, and yet 'twas naught but clear gristle I gave him. 
 Now you'll know, Crepin, why 'tis we like old Tite; be- 
 cause naught that goes wrong e'er rubs him the wrong 
 way, and he spares himself the trouble of whining and 
 complaining. See ; he's chewing at the thing yet ! " she 
 
 53
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 added, catching Tite in the act of shifting from one side 
 of his mouth to the other the cartilage he had been un- 
 able to masticate. 
 
 There was a twinkle in the old man's eye as he rose, 
 and drawing the gristle from his mouth, examined it 
 curiously. 
 
 " I did my best for your fame as cook, Petite 
 Maman," he said. 
 
 " Tite, you're a dear ! " she cried, and ere he could 
 move to resist, she had planted a sounding kiss on the 
 little space free from beard under his eye. The next 
 moment she was shouting, and above them all her voice 
 was supreme calling them to the kettle for their shares 
 of the savoury compound within. 
 
 At the same moment, and even as the men rose, a 
 slight figure, dressed from head to foot in green, came 
 through the forest at one side and walked toward them. 
 With no exception the caps came off those tousled heads 
 at sight of her. Had Monsieur Vignolles been present 
 he would have had no difficulty in recognising the new- 
 comer as Marcelle the Mad. 
 
 " My comrades, till now I have had no chance to 
 count the spoils of yesterday. They are even greater 
 than I had hoped for," she said quickly. " I shall divide 
 them according to the usual arrangement, one-fifth to 
 the gainer, the rest in equal shares. As the purse taken 
 from my lord the bishop's man contained a score and ten 
 golden crowns, here are your six, Tite; and do you see 
 to the division of the remainder." 
 
 She handed two small sacks to him addressed, while 
 the men crowded round her eagerly. 
 
 " But you, Marcelle ; you, as usual, have taken 
 naught ! " exclaimed Tite. 
 
 " When I am in need I shall call upon you, Tite, 
 54
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 since you are now become one of affluence," she an- 
 swered with a laugh that showed the evenness and white- 
 ness of her teeth. " Besides, I have, in truth, laid hands 
 on one of the pieces of velvet ; the rest you may apportion 
 as seems best, Petite Maman. Ne'er would I have cour- 
 age for such task or the consequences of my distribu- 
 tion." 
 
 She laughed again at the covetous look which had 
 stolen into the women's faces at mention of the finery, 
 and before realising it they were laughing with her. 
 There was something of contagion in the upward toss 
 of her head as she flung her short, black locks backward 
 from her face, alive with such colour as only the sun and 
 free air of heaven may impart. In truth, Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles had not erred in rating this maid of the forest 
 beautiful, yet it was an almost rude beauty, quite in 
 accord with that which gave charm to the wild roses 
 clinging to the undergrowth and grace to the lithe and 
 flowing ferns at their side. 
 
 " And now, comrades, let me no longer delay your 
 repast," she continued. " The men watching on the hills 
 must be relieved within the hour. Tite, you will see 
 that there is no delay. They are affected by hunger as 
 well as " 
 
 She broke off short and stared straight before her; 
 then, with a quick motion, enjoined silence. The others, 
 following her look, for a moment stood amazed. Then 
 Tite and some others stole softly to the trees where hung 
 their bows and noiselessly fitted shaft to string. That 
 done, they waited Marcelle's word, watching closely the 
 one who approached. 
 
 For head upon breast and eyes upon the ground a 
 man was unconsciously walking into their midst ; a large 
 man he was, with rich dress and a great sword, which 
 
 55
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 for easier carrying he had caught up under his arm. 
 Dust lay thick over all his attire, from the mantle which 
 he had thrown aside so that it trailed from one shoulder 
 to the great boots which spouted little powdery puffs as 
 he walked. 
 
 It was not any sound on the part of those he ap- 
 proached; it was not any consciousness of the presence 
 of others, but the faint scent of food from the kettle 
 which, after he had run his head well within the noose, 
 caused the man to halt and throw up his head. 
 
 The bow-strings of Tite and the others were half- 
 drawn on the instant; yet Marcelle made no sign, but 
 stood meeting the man's gaze, which was full directed 
 upon her. His sword slipped to the ground as, with a 
 fleeting glance, he swept the rest of the band. Then, his 
 shoulders shrugged ever so lightly, his gaze returned to 
 Marcelle, and with a look of weariness he leaned upon 
 his hilt and seemed to await the consequences of his 
 position with utter indifference. 
 
 "Well, fool!" 
 
 There was little that augured well for the man in 
 the tone Marcelle used; yet he seemed to care naught 
 for that or for the offence her words carried. 
 
 " You have named me aright," he said simply. 
 
 Marcelle scarce knew how to take his manner. She 
 feared a trap of some kind, and turned quickly to Poncet 
 Meux. 
 
 " Do you take a half-score men, Poncet, and scour 
 the wood hereabouts," she said. "No; Tite and you, 
 Crepin, remain here," and then again facing the stranger, 
 and with a show of mockery, " And now, who and what 
 may you be, my lord, and what spying game is it you 
 play?" 
 
 He smiled faintly. 
 
 56
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 " Have I played it like a spy ? " he asked ; but his 
 question only served to further rouse Marcelle, and she 
 stamped her foot on the ground in anger. The band 
 drew nearer and cast lowering looks at him who so dared 
 brave her, but he paid them no heed. 
 
 " Answer me not with idle question ! " cried Mar- 
 celle. " Who and what are you ? " 
 
 " For the first, it matters not ; call me by any name 
 you will save my own," he answered. " For the second 
 what am I? the answer is even easier nothing." 
 
 ;< Think not to hoodwink me by evasion," cried Mar- 
 celle ; " yet since you would for the moment conceal your 
 identity, I would hear whence you came and with what 
 purpose." 
 
 The man laughed, but there was no mirth in it. 
 
 " Whence came I, forsooth ? " He glanced down at 
 his apparel and shook his head as he muttered, " I must 
 have come leagues, leagues without knowing it." 
 
 " I am waiting!" cried Marcelle, and he shook him- 
 self as one awaking from a sound sleep. 
 
 " I came from Namur ; from the household of Count 
 Charles de Charolais Charles the Bold, some call him 
 and with the purpose of seeking death." 
 
 There was an ugly surge forward of the company 
 at mention of Count Charles's name. 
 
 " The dolt has chosen the right direction to achieve 
 his purpose," said Crepin Brune under his breath. 
 
 Marcelle quieted the men with a sign. 
 
 " We are favoured of late with visits from your 
 camp," she said shortly. " But yesterday we received 
 one Monsieur Vignolles, and now you appear. Did we 
 repeat our treatment of him in your case it might become 
 unpleasant. Our hospitality would soon become over- 
 strained." 
 
 57
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " And so you would dispose of me. Well, what of 
 it?" 
 
 Again Marcelle was puzzled by the man's heedless 
 tone and, for a moment, at a loss for words. 
 
 " Why have you left the Count de Charolais ? " she 
 asked suddenly, but the man shook his head. 
 
 " I will tell you no more," he said, and there was 
 enough firmness in his tone. " I had not sought this 
 meeting; but since it has happened, let events take their 
 course. 'Tis a solution ready to hand." 
 
 Again the men crowded toward him, but he made no 
 move to draw the great blade before him, and they hesi- 
 tated. Had he done so, they would have been upon him 
 in a body. 
 
 Crepin Brune spoke, and he voiced the sentiments 
 of most of the rest. 
 
 " What matters it why he left that 'cursed Burgun- 
 dian, Marcelle? That ever he was in that service is 
 enough for us." 
 
 " Ay, that it is ! " came cries from all sides, and then 
 of a sudden Andre Vaucler, who had been watching the 
 stranger's face intently, burst forth: 
 
 " I know this man, Marcelle ! Poncet, Poncet, do 
 you not remember last night ? " 
 
 But Poncet had gone, as Marcelle had bade him, 
 some moments before. 
 
 The stranger looked sharply at Andre, but evidently 
 was unable to place him in mind. 
 
 " Speak, Andre," commanded Marcelle. 
 
 " Last night, some time about the hour of twelve, 
 Poncet and I set out north to pay his father a visit. 
 Poncet is no man of Dinant, but son to a vine-grower, 
 as you know. By my faith, 'twas well we went across 
 country, for as we were sliding down the hill behind 
 
 58
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 the house, two troopers rode in by the front. When 
 they had entered we stole up, and Poncet, knowing the 
 house, of course, had no trouble in seeing through the 
 window who these men were. One was Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles and the other this man here." 
 
 " And you made no effort to get an arrow through 
 the one or the other of them ? " cried Crepin. 
 
 " 'Twas in my mind, but Poncet would not have it 
 said 'twould mean his father's life and vineyard," an- 
 swered Andre. " And well it was we tried it not, since, 
 when they did leave, we followed and saw them join a 
 score men-at-arms, who awaited them a hundred paces 
 along the road. Then we went back, and the old man 
 told us what was afoot. The two had asked many ques- 
 tions about the affair at Bouvignes and forced him to 
 tell them much about Marcelle." 
 
 "Marcelle!" 
 
 The cry was one angered roar. 
 
 "Ay, Marcelle, indeed!" shouted Andre. "'Twas 
 to take her they were prowling about the hills, as well 
 as to learn of the doings at Bouvignes. I reported the 
 thing to Marcelle herself this morning." 
 
 " Ay, 'tis so ; yet I paid it scant attention then," she 
 said, and her dark eyes were fixed upon the stranger's. 
 " Methinks you made no mention of names, Andre. Did 
 you learn by what name this one went ? " 
 
 " Ay, for Poncet's father heard the other address him 
 by it " 
 
 " To the devil with his name ! " cried Crepin. " This 
 man, last night in the service of Charolais, hunting down 
 our Marcelle, and we stay to speak of names ! Come on, 
 comrades ! " 
 
 Marcelle threw herself before the object of their as- 
 sault, who stood motionless as before. 
 5 59
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Back, dogs ! " she cried, and at sight of her furious 
 look they hesitated. " Tite, do you take your stand by 
 me. Till I am done with this man, shoot down the first 
 who would lay hand on him. You would interfere with 
 my affairs, Crepin, you fool ! Once before I taught you 
 a lesson, and now beware lest my patience be at an end. 
 Andre, continue; you were saying " 
 
 " That Poncet's father caught this man's name ay, 
 Marcelle; 'twas the Sieur Giraud." 
 
 A second only Marcelle was silent. Then she 
 whirled about. 
 
 " You are the Sieur Giraud d'Orson ? " she said. 
 
 " Why deny it now ? " he answered, as though dis- 
 comfited at the way it had become known. 
 
 " You write very pretty letters, Sieur Giraud," 
 snapped Marcelle. " Was your sudden downfall with 
 Count Charles due to a lady, perchance ? " 
 
 He was silent. The Lady Agathe's name was then 
 to be bandied about among this rabble despite his efforts. 
 
 " I beg of you, Marcelle 
 
 The words had escaped him ere he knew it, and the 
 involuntary pleading gesture that had accompanied them. 
 
 For a moment she seemed disposed to laugh in his 
 face, then said in a low, hurried voice : 
 
 " As you will ; I wage no fight against any lady ; " 
 and then louder, that the others should hear : " You see 
 we are well informed, Sieur Giraud, perchance as well 
 as Count Charles himself. And now as to your dis- 
 position." 
 
 " Again, Marcelle, I warn you there can be but one 
 ending for this man ! " cried Crepin. 
 
 " And are you all of the same opinion ? " she asked. 
 
 A great cry of assent rose from many throats. 
 
 "He shall die?" 
 
 60
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 " Ay, ay, that he shall." 
 
 Marcelle thought for a moment, then, raising her 
 hand, said quietly: 
 
 " Back ; I would have a word with the Sieur Giraud." 
 
 " But " began Crepin. 
 
 "Did you not hear, fool?" she cried. "Back, I 
 say ! " And with bad enough grace he complied. 
 
 Marcelle turned to the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " You have heard what they say, Sieur Giraud," she 
 said rapidly. " Nor may I gainsay them if you persist 
 in defiance. Yet, because I believe But tell me first, 
 did the letter I returned by Monsieur Vignolles have 
 aught to do with your disgrace ? " 
 
 The Sieur Giraud looked at her earnestly. No, she 
 was not playing with him. 
 
 " It was the beginning of things," he answered. 
 
 " Then would I save you if I may, despite your try- 
 ing to run me to earth." 
 
 "And why, Marcelle?" he asked involuntarily. 
 
 " Because because of that other with whose affairs 
 I ne'er should have meddled," she said, and her eyes fell 
 before his fixed gaze. 
 
 As for the Sieur Giraud, the thought of death was 
 already less attractive to him as she spoke. In truth, 
 there was much good remaining in the world since this 
 wild girl could cherish such thoughts. 
 
 " Marcelle, you are not of these people ? " he said 
 suddenly, and for an instant he noted the colour fly from 
 her face at his gesture toward the others. 
 
 " That I am their leader, Marcelle the Mad, is suffi- 
 cient answer to that," she made reply. " But come ; 
 Sieur Giraud, 'tis no time for aught save what concerns 
 you. There is one way I can save your life, I believe. 
 You must swear to become one of us." 
 
 61
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 He drew himself up proudly. He, the Sieur Giraud 
 d'Orson, a member of this ragged band, with the stamp 
 of outlawry deep upon him and all men's hands turned 
 against his own! And then he laughed harshly, and his 
 hands relaxed their tense grip on his sword hilt. In 
 truth, were not all men's hands turned against his as it 
 was? 'Twas a short step from what he had become to 
 what Marcelle suggested. But did he truly care to live? 
 that was the vital question. 
 
 " You have commanded a body of men-at-arms/' 
 said Marcelle. " You would be useful to us, Sieur 
 Giraud, in the (defence of Dinant when the time 
 comes." 
 
 " Against Count Charles ? " he said moodily. 
 
 " Ay ; but what of that. Are you so greatly in his 
 debt?" 
 
 " No," he answered, " the account is settled ; yet ne'er 
 will I oppose him." 
 
 She looked curiously at him. 
 
 " Your letter breathed a devotion scarce evident in 
 your manner now, Sieur Giraud. Methinks the Lady 
 Agathe might find cause for murmur at your accepting 
 death on the first reverse." 
 
 "That also is forever closed, Marcelle," he re- 
 plied. 
 
 " You are fortunate in being able to look so far into 
 the future," she said drily enough. " But come ; I have 
 made you the offer. I know not whether I may fulfil 
 it or not ; but choose, Sieur Giraud, choose ! " 
 
 Her words as to the future had brought hope into 
 his heart again. Perchance the Lady Agathe oh! a 
 thousand things might happen. As for fighting against 
 Count Charles, that he would not do; but that question 
 
 would come later. For the present 
 
 62
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 " Marcelle, I accept my life at your hands. I will 
 become a Companion of the Green Tent," he cried 
 hoarsely. 
 
 Her eyes rested on his a moment, and, seemingly 
 satisfied with what she saw, she turned and beckoned 
 the men to approach. As she did so Poncet and his 
 scouting band also crept into the circle. 
 
 " Comrades," said Marcelle, with no waver in her 
 voice, " it has occurred to me that this man, could he 
 be persuaded, would be useful to us. He is trained to 
 arms as none of the rest of you are. I have offered him 
 his life in case he joins us as the lowest one among you, 
 and he accepts. What say you ? " 
 
 A moment they stood silent. Then Crepin dashed 
 his cap to the ground in a rage. 
 
 " So that was the last word with this Sieur Giraud, 
 was it ? " he shouted. " And because he mouths his 
 words better than the rest of us and carries more of the 
 court air about him, you'd save his life, Marcelle? For 
 one, I'll have none of it, nor methinks will any comrade 
 here. The man has fought against us against you, 
 Marcelle " 
 
 " That concerns me ; not any of the rest of you," said 
 Marcelle sharply. " Who is leader here, Crepin Brune, 
 you or I ? Who is it that sees you have share and share 
 alike? Is it you, Andre, who seem so ready to slap 
 Crepin on the back? Was it Moise there, shouting so 
 loud a moment ago for this man's life, who nursed you 
 through the fever, Tite ? Why, Tite, Tite, what are you 
 thinking of, you ? " 
 
 " By God, I was off my head, Marcelle ! " cried Tite, 
 and with a bound was at her side, and she rested her 
 hand lightly on his shoulder. 
 
 And following Tite, Andre and Poncet took place 
 63
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 by her side. Yet the main body held aloof behind 
 Crepin. 
 
 Marcelle changed her voice and manner. 
 
 " So be it, comrades ! You have decided against me. 
 Ne'er before has such occasion arisen and ne'er shall it 
 again, for you have chosen between Crepin Brune and 
 Marcelle and given him the preference. Adieu, com- 
 rades ; I have tried to be just with you all, and when my 
 word is disputed, I may no longer remain ! " 
 
 She walked slowly away from them with never a 
 glance back. The Sieur Giraud thought that ne'er had 
 he seen such acting. He slipped his sword free, for now 
 he had no intention of being butchered; but the band 
 were paying him no heed. Instead, with one accord, 
 they flung themselves after Marcelle with a great cry, so 
 that she turned and retraced her steps. Crepin alone 
 held back sullenly. 
 
 " Then the Sieur Giraud lives and becomes one of 
 us?" she said sternly. 
 
 "Ay; only so be it you remain, Marcelle. If you 
 say so, we'll have the devil himself for companion," re- 
 plied Tite, and the rest shouted assent. 
 
 She smiled once more in their faces. 
 
 " What power the girl wielded over this rabble ! " 
 thought the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Then do you, Tite, see to the Sieur Giraud's wants 
 as regards dress," she said. " I will see that he is duly 
 sworn as a Companion, and " 
 
 Her speech ended in a shriek of horror, and she 
 pointed a trembling finger before her. One of the dogs 
 of the camp had run between the legs of Crepin, upset- 
 ting him in a cursing heap. Ere the dog might recover, 
 Crepin had seized him and, drawing his knife, had 
 slashed savagely at the poor brute's leg, so that it now 
 
 64
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE GREEN TENT 
 
 hung helpless and limp. The cry of the wounded beast 
 and Marcelle's shriek were simultaneous. The whole 
 thing had occurred in an instant. 
 
 For a second the Sieur Giraud saw Marcelle sway 
 as though about to fall. The next, she had drawn her- 
 self up and a terrible rage was in her eyes, while her 
 face had gone dead white. 
 
 " Seize that man ! " 
 
 This time there was no question of obeying her, and 
 a dozen hands dragged Crepin to his feet. 
 
 " Crepin Brune," she cried, " scarce a month has gone 
 by since I read you such lesson as methought no man 
 could forget." A moment she turned to the others. " No 
 matter why it was needful ; that concerns me alone. But 
 you lack all that goes to the making of a man, Crepin, 
 and, because 'tis so, you shall have such treatment as is 
 fitting for the brute you are. A moment ago you set 
 yourself against my will. That I would have passed 
 over ; but for the blow you have just struck, for the suf- 
 fering of that harmless beast, you shall pay with your 
 own blood." 
 
 She whirled upon the others, and her eyes fairly 
 blazed. 
 
 " To the tree with him, and a score lashes laid on by 
 you, Andre Vaucler, with all the strength of your arm ! " 
 she cried. 
 
 Crepin shrieked for mercy, and fell to his knees 
 before her. 
 
 " Away with him ; I have spoken ! " she said coldly. 
 
 A moment later the wretch was bound fast to a tree, 
 his back bared for the lash. His clamorous wails rent 
 the air; yet Marcelle stood unmoved and watched till 
 they had released him to fall in a moaning, bleeding 
 heap. Then she spoke as though content. 
 
 65
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Tite, do what you may for the dog. As for you, 
 Sieur Giraud, the sooner your oath is taken the better 
 it will be for you." 
 
 And drawing him a little to one side, she made him 
 repeat after her a solemn pledge to support the Com- 
 panions of the Green Tent till such time as she should 
 grant him release. Also she would have sworn him to 
 wage war to the death against the Count de Charolais ; 
 but this the Sieur Giraud flatly refused to do, and after 
 a time she forebore further urging. 
 
 Tite coming up as she ended, she turned and, leaving 
 the Sieur Giraud in his hands, slowly walked toward the 
 hillside, where she and the other women had quarters. 
 
 As the Sieur Giraud followed Tite in the opposite 
 direction, it occurred to him that within the hour a very 
 considerable change had come over his prospects. Was 
 this change for good or evil? Despite the fact that his 
 life had been spared, he could find no answer to the ques- 
 tion, for the screams of the man Crepin Brune still rang 
 in his ears. 
 
 66
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE 
 
 ON the crest of one of the loftiest ridges of the 
 forest the Sieur Giraud lay sprawled, with an 
 air that seemed to betoken complete freedom 
 from worldly concern. Before him fell the 
 sheer wall of a barren ravine, scarred and torn by rough 
 excrescences of slate and black marble, and affording 
 scant root-hold to the few scrubby pines that clung des- 
 perately to its surface. Above the opposing side of the 
 gorge and far away he could trace the silver line mark- 
 ing the course of the Meuse and catch the sun's dull 
 reflection from the leaden roofs of Dinant and Bou- 
 vignes. Such was the post they had allotted him, these 
 wanderers of the hills. Upon other favoured heights 
 were many more watchful eyes, and small indeed must 
 be that moving object which should avoid their scrutiny. 
 It is even probable that Count Charles, had he 
 chanced upon the Sieur Giraud at the moment, would 
 have passed him by unrecognised, so great the change 
 that had been wrought in his appearance. He had pre- 
 served his own attire, it was true, so far as hose and 
 jerkin went; but the gorgeous mantle and studded brig- 
 antine were gone, and in place of the great spurred 
 boots he wore the thongs of deerskin common to the 
 band. His own crimson cap, with its jewelled rim, was 
 replaced by a turbanlike headpiece of sombre hue, the 
 scarf of which fell upon his shoulder. This last Tite 
 
 6?
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 had growlingly insisted on, and in its folds was thrust 
 the green emblem of the Companions. Yet the man's 
 face had changed in no way, since by some artful means, 
 and perchance by reason of a returning pride, he had 
 managed to keep back the beard that thrived so with 
 the others. The close growth upon his upper lip stood 
 out the more boldly in consequence. By his side lay the 
 bow, which had displaced his sword, and the bundle of 
 arrows he had plucked from his belt on lying down. 
 
 But the Sieur Giraud's easy attitude of nonchalance 
 was in no way reflective of the man's mind. In truth, 
 once more he had come to look on life as worth living, 
 yet the role of outlaw he had been forced to adopt 
 weighed heavily upon him. His new associates, save for 
 Marcelle and perchance Tite, had filled him with an 
 aversion he had been unable to conceal during the week 
 that had passed since his joining them. As for Mar- 
 celle, he had acknowledged his inability to know her. 
 She was comparable to no woman he had ever seen; a 
 child of whim and fancies, yet, in truth, no child in the 
 iron rule she held over the wretches who submitted to 
 her. He had seen her stand unmoved while the blood 
 poured from Crepin's back and his piteous cries rung in 
 her ears; yet she had gone pale with horror and tears 
 had sprung to her eyes at sight of a dog's misery. For 
 an instant he had caught sight of the heart back of the 
 cold, implacable exterior. 
 
 Then why had she so stepped in to save him? He 
 fancied 'twas not for the reason she gave, since she 
 could have no real knowledge of the Lady Agathe; and 
 if any one thing could be said to dominate her, it was 
 her hatred of the Count de Charolais and the whole 
 House of Burgundy. Nor, as he had hinted to her, was 
 she of these people, these refugees of Dinant. He had 
 
 68
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE 
 
 seen it in a hundred ways ; her talk, her bearing, and the 
 deference, beyond that due a mere outlaw chief, shown 
 her by all. Whence came this strange creature ? Whence 
 emanated this implicit confidence? None volunteered a 
 word thereon, and his footing with the band was not 
 strong enough to warrant much questioning. During 
 the week he had been with the Companions Marcelle 
 often had been absent, and he had heard that she had 
 gone to Dinant, but on what errands he knew naught. 
 He believed that there were few even among her own 
 band in whom she confided. 
 
 And then the thoughts of the Sieur Giraud turned 
 to the Lady Agathe, and his gaze flew northward over 
 the wooded country. Ay, yonder, yonder, forever be- 
 yond his reach, there was all that he had left behind 
 him there the perished hopes he had once been mad 
 enough to hold. Monsieur Vignolles, willing or no, 
 would wed the Lady Agathe and then he started, for 
 he remembered that 'twas on the morrow she was to 
 begin her journey to Bruges. 
 
 He buried his face in the cool moss beneath him, 
 and a sound, half groan, half curse, escaped his lips. 
 
 " Then why do you remain, Sieur Giraud ? The 
 woods of the Ardennes are free for all. Why do you 
 stay?" 
 
 He raised his head quickly, and there was Marcelle. 
 She had come up the steep behind him with the silent 
 tread of a fawn, and now paused, leaning upon the 
 oaken stick that had aided her ascent. Her lips were 
 slightly parted and her bosom rose and fell quickly from 
 her exertion, while the grace of her attitude and the sug- 
 gested outlines of her figure served for a moment to hold 
 the Sieur Giraud in silent contemplation. 
 
 " Why do you stay, Sieur Giraud ? " she repeated. 
 69
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 He assumed no pretence of not understanding. 
 Strong men are not given to passionate outbursts with- 
 out cause. She had heard and divined. 
 
 " Why do I stay, Marcelle ? Because I am chained ; 
 chained, as you know, to this life. You at least should 
 not ask such question," he said in bitter voice. 
 
 She made no reply and he went on: 
 
 " Ay, chained I am, and the links are double welded, 
 since I am held to this accursed existence by my own 
 word. At times I ask myself if it would not have been 
 better " 
 
 She cut in shortly. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know. And the answer is, Sieur 
 Giraud?" 
 
 " That what you did was for the best, Marcelle," 
 he answered. 
 
 " You are glad to live, yet unwilling to pay the 
 price," she said after a moment. 
 
 " Some things may be bought too dearly, Marcelle, 
 and to herd one's self with such a rabble " 
 
 " Ay, rabble it is, in truth, Sieur Giraud, though you 
 are bold to throw such words in my face," she cried. 
 " But tell me, what has made these men what they are ? 
 What has driven them from Dinant yonder; from the 
 peaceful trades they practised but twelve months agone ? 
 Do men such as these put a price on their heads for 
 naught ? 
 
 " They seem well enough content with vagabond- 
 age," said the Sieur Giraud in a tone savouring of the 
 sneer. 
 
 " Bah ; you cannot see beneath the surface ! " cried 
 Marcelle. " You are of the north and understand not 
 these people, and, besides, have been of the very party 
 which has brought them to such case. You may not 
 
 70
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE 
 
 see beyond the wall of desperate outlawry these men 
 have built about them, but I know; I have seen what 
 they have suffered since the coming of this Louis de 
 Bourbon as bishop. And what I have not seen they 
 have told me; and we are but a handful among the 
 thousands roaming these hills." 
 
 She spoke with an earnestness that was compelling, 
 and the Sieur Giraud caught some of her spirit; yet his 
 conception of these freebooters was too strong to be 
 shaken. 
 
 " My Lord the Bishop has long since betaken himself 
 to Huy," he said. " If the people deemed themselves 
 oppressed, there were the echevins, the judges." 
 
 " You have well learned the Burgundian chant, Sieur 
 Giraud," said Marcelle impatiently. " Law ? You would 
 speak of law anywhere in this whole province of Liege ! 
 There is no law save through the Pope, the bishop, and 
 back of the bishop, the Duke of Burgundy. But always, 
 always the Church. When the people opposed the profli- 
 gacies of Louis de Bourbon, when they invoked the law 
 to stay a taxation that was rendering them paupers, the 
 wand of office was lowered in the mayor's hand by order 
 of the bishop, and the doors of the court slammed in 
 their faces. And then, when in desperation they had 
 risen and driven this youth and his shameless retinue 
 from their midst, then the Pope scourged them with 
 interdict and excommunication. You who prate of jus- 
 tice, do you know what that meant to these people? " 
 
 The Sieur Giraud crossed himself hastily. Ay, well 
 enough did he know what this interdict had meant; 
 church doors closed to all comers, ominous silence in 
 the belfries, and no sacramental service for any. For 
 the new-born child there might be no baptism; the 
 guilty must rest unconfessed ; the betrothed, unwed ; no 
 
 71
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 unction might salve the dying nor priestly blessing mark 
 their grave when dead. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud shuddered, and Marcelle noted it. 
 When she again spoke 'twas in gentler tone and as 
 though he had been convinced. 
 
 " And this is why I love these people ; because of 
 what they have endured. What they are now is what 
 they have been driven to become." 
 
 There was moisture in her great, dark eyes, and their 
 look was far away toward Dinant. The Sieur Giraud 
 plucked restlessly at the moss beside him. 
 
 " I have heard but the one side before, Marcelle," 
 he said slowly. " I confess your tale has impressed me 
 greatly, but there will be a sad day of reckoning. 
 Neither Monseigneur the Duke nor Count Charles will 
 suffer this state of open revolt to continue. The province 
 of Liege and Dinant in particular are marked for venge- 
 ance." 
 
 " That we know and can but do our utmost," she 
 answered. " You call yourself a man, Sieur Giraud. 
 Would you have done otherwise than the Companions 
 have done? Would you have submitted to being ground 
 under the heel of this Louis de Bourbon ? " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 His answer was prompt enough, and she ventured a 
 step farther, while her voice hardened. 
 
 " And you would hate the Count de Charolais who 
 marches against us, even to conspiring against his very 
 life, and ?" 
 
 "Marcelle!" 
 
 He had risen quickly to his elbow, and his eyes met 
 hers with an angry gleam in them she had never seen 
 there before. It was as though a challenge had been 
 hurled, and the gaze of both was firm. 
 
 72
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE 
 
 " Marcelle, you have been rightly named ; you do, 
 in truth, speak madness," he said, " or else your griev- 
 ance against Count Charles is greater than I believe. 
 Until a week ago Count Charles was my good lord and 
 master, and whatever has happened I forget not that. 
 You speak of but one thing assassination foul murder 
 the thrust of a knife in the dark, or the flight of a 
 silent shaft from a thicket and you speak of this to me 
 as though I might entertain such thought." 
 
 " I said, were you in our position," she cried. 
 
 " Ay, you said that ; but you thought to entice assent 
 from me. 'Twas in your eyes, and is there still," he 
 made answer. " God's truth ! Did you think to have 
 dragged me down to that? Seek what you look for 
 among the others. Andre, Poncet, Crepin; I'd believe 
 it of any of them, but I looked for it not from you, 
 Marcelle." 
 
 This time her eyes gave up the strife, and for a brief 
 space wandered from his. She realised keenly that her 
 stroke had failed; had been too bold, and, as she now 
 saw, premature at best. 
 
 " You leap too quickly, Sieur Giraud ; I said naught 
 of assassination. Surely to conspire against the life of 
 an enemy may not mean murder," she said. 
 
 " Yet that was your meaning, Marcelle ; of that I'll 
 be sworn ! " he replied. " I had begun to believe there 
 might be something in the cause you fight, but you have 
 undone all that, and I warn you that in this thing my 
 hand will be set against you. You have bought my life, 
 and 'tis yours for a word, I know ; but have a care how 
 you use the purchase, Marcelle." 
 
 She tossed her head, and the Sieur Giraud could but 
 lament inwardly that such beauty should harbour these 
 mad impulses. 
 
 73
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Since you persist in the delusion, Sieur Giraud, be 
 it so," she said. " The facts will appear in due time. 
 In truth, the Burgundian Court laid heavy tribute on 
 your loyalty, but then " 
 
 He waited for the conclusion of her sentence, but 
 her eyes were directed toward the north and she seemed 
 unaware of the omission. 
 
 " But then ? " he asked. 
 
 Her weight drove the staff on which she leaned deep 
 into the soft upper soil. 
 
 " But then I was well-nigh forgetting the Lady 
 Agathe," she said quietly. 
 
 And at that he started, for, in truth, he himself had 
 had no thought of the Lady Agathe since Marcelle had 
 first come up. He made no reply, but his gaze followed 
 her own. In a moment she drew the staff from the 
 ground and, coming nearer the edge of the ravine, seated 
 herself on a great block of black marble that threatened 
 to topple over at any moment. Then she said pensively : 
 
 "Ay, I had nigh forgot the Lady Agathe, yet has 
 she been much on my mind since I first chanced upon 
 her name." 
 
 To the Sieur Giraud there was much that displeased 
 him in hearing the Lady Agathe's name on the lips of 
 this girl, in view of what he had divined as to her plot- 
 ting against Count Charles's life. Yet he scarce knew 
 how to make this evident. As for Marcelle, she con- 
 tinued in the same musing tone: 
 
 " In truth, I marvel not that this life is irksome, Sieur 
 Giraud; yet is the world large and Fate full of caprice. 
 The paths of the Lady Agathe and yourself may again 
 meet." 
 
 So had she spoken that first night he had come upon 
 them. Now he smiled bitterly to think how, for the 
 
 74
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE 
 
 time, he had been heartened by such words. Marcelle 
 regarded him closely, her elbow on knee and her chin 
 resting on hand. 
 
 " Enough, Marcelle ! " he said shortly. " If you 
 came here to torture me with thoughts of this odious 
 oath I have taken, you have succeeded. But I will not 
 speak of my Lady Agathe with such as you." 
 
 He spoke scathingly, and the words cut deep into the 
 girl's heart. With a bound she was on her feet and had 
 raised her staff so threateningly that he threw up an arm 
 involuntarily to ward off the blow. But it never de- 
 scended, and in place of the mad outburst he expected, 
 she only laughed harshly and lowered the weapon. 
 
 " You speak aright, Sieur Giraud," she said hoarsely. 
 " The Lady Agathe's name must not be defiled by the 
 lips of Marcelle the Mad. Ay, you speak aright. We 
 are of different worlds, she and I ; her life, one of luxury 
 and contentment; mine, of privation and anxiety." 
 
 She turned and with her staff thrust a small stone 
 into the ravine and seemed intent only on its fall. There 
 was such bitterness, such sadness in her words that the 
 Sieur Giraud rose quickly and, going to her side, placed 
 his hand upon her shoulder. She trembled ; and her 
 head remained bent, so that he might not see her face 
 through the tumbled hair. 
 
 " Forgive me, Marcelle, for my words were harsher 
 than I had meant," he said kindly, and, as he spoke, it 
 again bore upon his mind that this girl had saved his 
 life. He thought that even the Lady Agathe would 
 wish him to be gentle with her. " Forgive and forget 
 the words, Marcelle," he continued. " In any event, 
 'twill be no long matter, for with the morrow the Lady 
 Agathe passes forever out of my life." 
 
 She looked up at him quickly. 
 6 75
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I do not understand," she said. 
 
 And then, throwing aside all reserve, he was impelled 
 to tell her all ; how his regard for the lady had led to his 
 ruin; how the constable had gained her hand for Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles, and how, on the morrow, she was to 
 be sent to Bruges, there to await her marriage on the 
 return of Count Charles and the court. And as he spoke 
 there was a strange play of light on her features, though 
 she said not a word till he had ended. 
 
 " And once at Bruges there would be no hope of 
 escape for the Lady Agathe; no chance such as that 
 which failed at Namur ? " she asked at length. 
 
 " Not the least," he replied. " Make no doubt of 
 Count Charles's care of that, now he knows of that 
 attempt." 
 
 "And who was it, think you, informed him of the 
 plan?" 
 
 " I know not, Marcelle," he said, " nor how 'twas 
 learned; but I'll be sworn the Count de St. Pol could 
 tell. There are many eyes and ears in his service, and 
 'twas to his benefit, this exposure." 
 
 Marcelle nodded thoughtfully and turned away, and 
 for a long time no word passed between them. In his 
 mind was the chafing rage and chagrin he felt in his 
 helplessness; in hers, a confusion of ideas ran riot. She 
 had liked this man when first she had seen him stand 
 before her, utterly indifferent to the death which threat- 
 ened him. It was not what she had learned to expect 
 in those brought before her, and his unconcern had 
 exasperated her in that she was unable to break it down. 
 Yet she told herself that if the man had weakened she 
 would have allowed Crepin and the rest their way. 
 Her determination to save him had been only a sudden 
 freak roused in her mind by something in his manner 
 
 76
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE 
 
 that was compelling. Having once taken the stand, her 
 very pride of command had sufficed in the subsequent 
 brawl. 
 
 And she had not been sorry that she had won. In 
 the week he had been with them the Sieur Giraud, while 
 showing no liking for it, had done the work of a Com- 
 panion patiently enough. She had scarce spoken to him, 
 but had watched him closely to see if he would justify 
 her opinion of his value to the band. Even Tite, at first 
 inclined to question, had admitted the Sieur Giraud's 
 worth. This was after the latter had seen from his post 
 the approach of a strong party from Bouvignes and given 
 warning thereof in time for the Companions to scatter 
 through the forest and avoid being surrounded. 
 
 Yet Marcelle had known no peace of mind since his 
 coming. Her liking for him had grown as she had noted 
 his calm submission to his lot and his faith to the oath 
 he had taken; but there was ever the shadow of that 
 other, the Lady Agathe, hanging like a darkening cloud 
 over the man's spirit, and this had nettled her. What 
 the feelings were she had for the Sieur Giraud; why 
 this new and strange emotion which she was conscious 
 of in his presence, she knew not. She had struggled 
 with them by day and by night ; they had caused her 
 to toss uneasily on her couch of pine-boughs. 
 
 To-day she had resolved to end the uncertainty, and 
 so had sought out the Sieur Giraud at his post on the 
 hills. 
 
 He had spoken sneeringly of the Companions, her 
 followers; yet she had endured it from him, contenting 
 herself with trying to show their justification. Then he 
 had or she had, she remembered not which let fall the 
 name of the Lady Agathe. Always that name seemed 
 to come up between them ! And then he had stabbed 
 
 77
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 her cruelly at heart. She had raised her staff, yet struck 
 not; and why? The next moment had told her; when 
 he had come and placed his hand upon her shoulder 
 she still thrilled with the memory of it and spoken in 
 that kind and quiet voice. The veil had been lifted, and 
 the great wave that had surged over her, leaving her hot 
 and cold by turns, ay, that had been Love. Love ! She 
 had known it, and the very ground had seemed to pulse 
 beneath her in the joy she felt. And then she had seen 
 that he knew it not ; that his thoughts were only for that 
 other, and the receding wave had left her desolate and 
 with a bitter hatred in her heart. Except for that other, 
 she would then have thrown herself into his arms. It 
 was her nature so to do, and the dictate of all the warm 
 blood coursing through her veins. She could have made 
 him love her. But, pitiless, the shadow of the Lady 
 Agathe again had come between. 
 
 As he had told her of this forced marriage, her heart 
 had leaped again within her for joy a joy that was gone 
 the next instant in the look of distress upon his face. A 
 blind rage against all the world had risen within her, 
 yet she could not bear to see the suffering of this man 
 she loved, and had turned aside her head to shut out 
 the sight. 
 
 All this swept like a torrent through Marcelle's mind 
 as the two stood in such silence. Above all was the 
 thought that the morrow would see the end of the Lady 
 Agathe, so far as concerned him. If naught hindered, 
 by nightfall she would be leagues away and he forbid 
 the land to which she went. Would the Sieur Giraud 
 then turn to her, Marcelle ? Could she make him forget ? 
 
 She looked at him, and a soft appeal was in her eyes ; 
 but, alas! he seemed not to be aware of her presence, 
 and his gaze was northward. 
 
 78
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE LADY AGATHE 
 
 It was borne upon her that she might not hope for 
 the love of this man, and the blow seemed to dry the 
 very blood within her and leave her shrivelled and cold. 
 No ; it was impossible, hopeless ! And again the thought 
 recurred to her that neither might that other enjoy his 
 love. Ah ! He might strain that gaze northward along 
 the valley of the Meuse ; the morrow would end all that, 
 if naught hindered. 
 
 If naught hindered! 
 
 Again that phrase. She wondered why it had crept 
 in, and then suddenly started violently. 
 
 From behind them a snatch of verse in a high, quaver- 
 ing voice fell upon their ears, and they turned together. 
 It drew nearer, and a moment later Andre Vaucler came 
 into view below, making his way upward toward them. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud smiled. 
 
 " It is Andre coming to relieve me," he said ; and 
 then, in his kindest voice, " In truth, how the time has 
 flown, though perchance all our speech has not been o'er- 
 pleasing. You should make the rounds more often, 
 Marcelle." 
 
 "You have liked it? You are glad that I came?" 
 she said softly, yet with eagerness. 
 
 " Yes ; I am glad you came," he answered ; " com- 
 panionship is something, and sometimes alone here on 
 these hills I dread madness when I think of what I have 
 lost. But enough ! You may not understand you, who 
 have never felt this." 
 
 She made no answer, yet she knew that he again 
 spoke of the Lady Agathe, and his tone cut her with 
 its very kindness. He believed her incapable of that 
 emotion he felt. Oh, if the man could but know ! 
 
 He spoke lightly as he picked up the bow and thrust 
 the handful of arrows within his belt. 
 
 79
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Yet you are young, Marcelle, and the time will 
 come; so frown not that way lest the marks remain to 
 turn away some Andre, or Crepin, or Poncet, who " 
 
 A wild sob burst from her throat and her eyes were 
 wet with tears that would come. 
 
 " Sieur Giraud, I hate you ; hate you ! " she cried, 
 and, whirling about, fled along the ridge into the forest. 
 
 He stood a moment looking blankly after her; then 
 whistled and, without a word to Andre, who just then 
 came over the rise, strode rapidly down the hill. 
 
 80
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 LITTLE liberty had there been for the Lady 
 Agathe since that day when she had so un- 
 willingly ridden forth to the review. Count 
 Charles had seen to it that she was kept close 
 in the apartments which had been allotted her, yet it 
 was fortunate for her that the Countess de Laubec had 
 fallen equally under his displeasure, for by that she was 
 not deprived of all companionship. Only those in whom 
 the count might place implicit trust were placed about 
 her as attendants, for, once having been warned of the 
 extent to which the Lady Agathe would go, he took no 
 chances of a repetition of her attempt at escape. 
 
 For the first day or two she had spent much of the 
 time in the arms of the countess, pouring her grief into 
 that lady's sympathetic ear and alternately vowing that 
 never would she submit to this marriage to Monsieur 
 Vignolles, and beseeching the countess for some sugges- 
 tion, some way out of the dilemma. But alas ! Willing 
 as the latter was to extend every assistance to her, what 
 could she do save shed tears the faster and raise her 
 hands helplessly to heaven? Count Charles had said 
 that it should be so, and he had a way of crushing any 
 or all who dared oppose him. 
 
 " I will appeal to Monseigneur the Duke when he 
 arrives ; I will grovel before him if need be ! " had cried 
 
 the Lady Agathe. " Surely he never will force me " 
 
 81
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 But the countess had slain that hope by saying 
 quickly : 
 
 " Let not your faith rest in that, my lady. Mon- 
 seigneur's years weigh heavy upon him; so heavy that 
 methinks his mind has returned to that of a child. Did 
 you not tell me yourself of his overturning the table at 
 dinner before all the lords and ladies because some one 
 had made reference to his age, and that but a month 
 agone? Mark you, when a man goes to such extent, 
 there is something amiss here." She 'had tapped her 
 forehead suggestively. 
 
 " Yet Monseigneur ever has seemed fond of me," 
 the Lady Agathe had said. " I will believe that there 
 is hope in an appeal to him." 
 
 "And I would, if I might, my lady," had been the 
 answer ; " but however much you may be in his favour, 
 forget not 'tis his son, the Count de Charolais, on whom 
 he dotes. By my faith, 'tis Count Charles who is the true 
 Duke of Burgundy now, rather than Monseigneur." 
 
 And so it was, as the Lady Agathe well knew, yet 
 with all obstinacy she had continued to argue the matter 
 till the older woman had fairly fallen asleep. 
 
 After these first outbursts, however, the Lady Agathe 
 became calmer, and, indeed, as the days went by, spoke 
 less and less of her troubles. Yet the mention of Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles's name always would serve to rouse her 
 to a passion. Against him was delivered her choicest 
 invective, and upon his shoulders she threw the entire 
 responsibility for her plight. Inasmuch as he knew it 
 not, this did not materially affect the gaiety which was 
 habitual with him. 
 
 The Lady Agathe had been in better case when she 
 gave free voice to the feelings within her. Now that 
 she took to brooding over her wrongs, she faded visibly ; 
 
 82
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 and, in truth, there was reason enough for this, since, 
 besides her own afflictions, she was tormented by the 
 thoughts of that one she had inflicted upon the Sieur 
 Giraud, and by harassing doubts as to what fate had 
 befallen him. She was not sure what her feelings were 
 toward the Sieur Giraud, but she knew that his devotion 
 to her was great, and she confessed to a strange leaping 
 of her heart when he had so nobly agreed to aid her 
 plans. Then, too, the letter she had read before Count 
 Charles and the constable had thrilled her with its words 
 of earnest regard, even under such circumstances as those 
 in which she had been placed. She believed that had 
 Count Charles and the constable not had other plans, 
 she must have yielded to the plea of the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 In this wise the time passed with the Lady Agathe 
 until the day Monseigneur arrived. Her windows gave 
 not upon the street, but she heard the blare of the trum- 
 pets, the loud shouting and the tread of the great escort 
 which had met him en route, and knew what it meant. 
 It was then high noon, and she waited from then on in 
 frantic suspense for the summons she knew would come. 
 The day was nigh spent, however, before the page en- 
 tered and delivered his message. Bidding the countess 
 offer a prayer for her, she followed him from the room 
 and down the winding stairs. 
 
 The duke reclined on a great dais heavily embroid- 
 ered in gold, and above his white head drooped a gor- 
 geous banner emblazoned with the Cross of St. Andrew. 
 He had borne the journey by litter but badly, and there 
 was little colour on his wrinkled face and exhaustion in 
 his very attitude. At his side knelt Count Charles, Mon- 
 seigneur's nearest hand being upon his head caressingly, 
 and at the foot of the dais stood the Constable of France. 
 This much the Lady Agathe might see ere she came to 
 
 83
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 her knee, and awaited, with bowed head, Monseigneur's 
 pleasure. 
 
 He spoke quickly enough, but his voice was quaver- 
 ing with years and with his fatigued state. 
 
 " Rise, my Lady Agathe. We have been informed 
 of the measures which my Lord Count de Charolais and 
 my lord constable have deemed best for your welfare." 
 
 The Lady Agathe rose at his bidding and met the 
 look his dark eyes bent upon her from beneath their 
 shaggy brows. 
 
 " Also are we aware of the disobedience you have 
 displayed or attempted to display," the duke proceeded, 
 his tone showing his irritation. " This conduct amazes 
 us ; we should not have looked for it from you, my Lady 
 Agathe." 
 
 After a moment's pause he seemed about to speak 
 again, but whether the thought of what he would say 
 left him, or whether he underwent a change of mind, he 
 merely waved his hand in the end, and said : 
 
 " You may speak, my lady." 
 
 Both the Count de St. Pol and Count Charles turned 
 their heads, and she saw naught to hearten her either in 
 the former's cynical smile or the latter's challenging 
 look. Yet she spoke not with any boldness, for such 
 would have been folly with all the pent-up wish of her 
 heart behind the words she uttered. 
 
 " Monseigneur ever has been just and kind to me, 
 which emboldens me to voice my mind. The disposal 
 which my lord count intends making of me ; the marriage 
 which my lord constable has suggested is so far distaste- 
 ful, so far hateful to me, that I venture to appeal to Mon- 
 seigneur against its fulfilment." 
 
 The duke looked at her sharply. 
 
 " And why this distaste ; why this hatred, my lady ? " 
 84
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 ." Monseigneur, this man they would force me to wed 
 I I scarce know, save by sight." 
 
 " That will not suffice to condemn him, for we have 
 seen Monsieur Vignolles, and there is much about him 
 to please any lady, we find." 
 
 " I spoke not because of his manner or complexion, 
 Monseigneur," she said hastily, " but because, for aught 
 I know, he may be the veriest fool or knave that lives." 
 
 The duke roused angrily. 
 
 " Have a care, my Lady Agathe. You seem to forget 
 who has made the arrangement," he cried testily. " My 
 Lord Count de Charolais would scarce- select either the 
 fool or knave for you." 
 
 The words of the Countess de Laubec came back to 
 her. In truth, the duke was well under Count Charles's 
 thumb, as she had said. 
 
 " Your conduct has been and is very displeasing to 
 us, my Lady Agathe," continued the duke. " My Lord 
 Count de Charolais has been lenient in even waiting our 
 approval before sending you to Bruges. As for your 
 objections, they are paltry. Were we governed by wom- 
 en's whims, a fine pass the court would come to, for- 
 sooth! You protest that you know not the man. So 
 be it true ; that shall be remedied for you, since to-mor- 
 row you leave for Bruges under escort, and that escort 
 under Monsieur Vignolles." 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles ! " she gasped. 
 
 " 'Tis my Lord Count de St. Pol's suggestion, and, 
 as it happens, an excellent one. You will have oppor- 
 tunity of making the acquaintance of your future lord 
 en route," said the duke, and added, seeing that she stood 
 speechless with the blow he had delivered: 
 
 " You may withdraw, my Lady Agathe. We have 
 other pressing matters awaiting our attention." 
 
 85
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Well she knew the futility of attempting further 
 speech after that. Again she sunk to her knee before 
 Monseigneur, and again her eye met the smile of the 
 constable. Her blood ran hot within her with rage at 
 this man, for it was clear to her that all the duke had 
 said was his doing. To insure the constable's fidelity, 
 Count Charles had ordered her marriage, lest, offended, 
 he should turn his loyalty and allegiance to the King 
 of France. She shuddered at sight of the constable's 
 beaming features and at the thought that she was be- 
 come a mere shuttle-cock in affairs of state. The next 
 moment she was in the corridor without. 
 
 They had come a league without ever a word between 
 them, yet he rode at her side, and his manner was easy 
 enough. They had passed beyond the most distant out- 
 post of the ever-increasing army, and the road lay 
 crooked and dusty ahead of them ; so crooked that but 
 short stretches of it were visible at one time, and so dusty 
 that the four men-at-arms who brought up the rear 
 choked and coughed and swore feelingly under their 
 breaths. Yet there was promise of relief from this last 
 in the ominous masses of inky clouds which had begun 
 to rear their heads over the hill-tops. 
 
 To say the truth, Monsieur Vignolles was more un- 
 easy in mind than his bearing would have suggested. 
 This duty of escorting his mate-to-be to Bruges had 
 galled him exceedingly when the constable had informed 
 him of it, yet he had submitted with seeming willingness. 
 Long since he had learned the futility of opposing the 
 constable's will. Therefore, here he was, a league on 
 the road and with never a word to his charge, who rode 
 with head up and eyes anywhere but where he might 
 catch them with his own. It occurred to him that her 
 
 86
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 two women-servants, trundling behind in a cart, were 
 enjoying the journey to better purpose than their mis- 
 tress, despite the jolting they sustained. He judged 
 that the time had come for breaking the barrier that 
 separated the Lady Agathe and himself, for, since the 
 thing had to be, he argued that there was small sense 
 in making it worse. The high colour in the Lady 
 Agathe's cheeks, the strands of golden hair that curled 
 about her temples, the long lashes that half hid the blue 
 of her eyes these may have influenced Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles to speak first, or they may have had nothing to 
 do with it. Still, he was but a young and exceedingly 
 healthy individual; so it is probable that these trifles 
 were not without their effect. At all events, he did 
 speak first, and his topic was that which it ever has 
 been, since the creation of man, where embarrassment 
 clogs free discourse. 
 
 " We shall have mud in place of this dust within an 
 hour's time, my Lady Agathe. Did you see the flash 
 pass between yonder two clouds ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 He hitched in the saddle and tried again. 
 
 " There's a saying in my country that if you are 
 quick enough to seize a lady's hand during a lightning 
 flash she is bound to you for ever. I once heard of a man 
 who was struck dead trying to discover if the saying was 
 true, and just as he was about to grasp the lady's hand. 
 He was counted a lucky man by those who knew them 
 both." 
 
 No answer, but a perceptible throwing backward of 
 the head. 
 
 " In truth, there -is no doubt that he was fortunate, 
 considering what he escaped," continued Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles musingly. 
 
 87
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 This time the Lady Agathe replied, for she thought 
 to see a ray of hope, yet she turned not her head. 
 
 " The man was favoured because he escaped wedding 
 the lady?" 
 
 " Ay ; for the lady afterward did away with four 
 husbands, one after another killed the first with kind- 
 ness, and swore never to practise that again; second 
 and third perished of the plague and neglect, and she 
 was hung for poisoning the fourth. She was pro- 
 gressive, and, had she lived, might have accomplished 
 more." 
 
 This was not precisely what the Lady Agathe had 
 looked for, and she again took to silence. The distant 
 grumble of thunder came to their ears, and already the 
 air hung heavy with that dead stillness that precedes the 
 summer storm. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles fell back and, bidding one of the 
 women hand him the Lady Agathe's cloak, again spurred 
 forward and would have thrown it about her shoulders ; 
 but she drew away, and he could only place it on her 
 hand. 
 
 "A truce to any attempt at gallantry, monsieur," 
 she said. " It sets but ill on your present vocation." 
 
 " My present vocation is none of my making, my 
 lady," he answered, and there was true resentment in 
 his tone. " What my Lord the Constable ordains, that 
 I do, and do quick enough, since protest would mean 
 ruin." 
 
 " You mean that you would have avoided this duty ? " 
 she said, working herself into the cloak, for the heavens 
 were becoming darker and darker. 
 
 He looked at her with almost reproach. 
 
 " Am I not obliged to marry you, my lady ? " he 
 asked. " By my faith, we shall see enough of each other 
 
 88
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 then, I'll be sworn; more than enough, 'tis likely, with- 
 out this introduction." 
 
 " You would not wed were you not forced to it, 
 monsieur ? " she cried eagerly. 
 
 "Wed myself? Not to the best lady in the land, 
 were she to beseech me thereto on bended knee; not to 
 the most beautiful which you are, my lady did she 
 shed tears of pleading upon my shoulder. Love them ? 
 Ah, therein is another matter; but willingly tie myself 
 to one pooh, my lady, 'tis beyond me ! " 
 
 " Yet you have calmly accepted this arrangement, 
 monsieur," she said coldly. " Bah ! You are a very 
 coward ! " 
 
 " In that I have obeyed my Lord the Constable's 
 wishes, perchance I am in your eyes," he answered; 
 " but in that I have braved the horrors of marriage, me- 
 thinks the account balances; and I am simply what I 
 am, a man with a great fondness for life." 
 
 " The Count de St. Pol would scarce have taken your 
 life," she said. 
 
 " True ; yet to withdraw his countenance would be 
 enough. You know not these lords above us. Yet you 
 do, for have you not had example in the fate of the Sieur 
 Giraud." 
 
 " Ah ! and what of him what fate ? " she gasped. 
 
 " Naught is known. He has simply disappeared from 
 off the earth. That is the power these men wield, my 
 lady; that is why I shall wed you." 
 
 Somehow his words did not give her the great joy 
 they should have given. It is seldom gratifying to hear 
 one's attractions set at naught, and the Lady Agathe was 
 unaccustomed to it. 
 
 " You speak with too much assurance, monsieur," 
 she said proudly. " Moreover, averse as you profess to 
 
 89
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 be toward this arrangement, there is a strange readiness 
 in the manner of your submission." 
 
 For the fraction of a second Monsieur Vignolles's face 
 wore a frown, and he seemed to meditate a sharp reply. 
 But as he looked at her his irritation vanished and he 
 laughed outright in her face, only to become grave again 
 under the petulant glance she threw him. 
 
 " My Lady Agathe, in truth you give me too great 
 credit," he said, and behind his apparent gravity there 
 lurked a note of drollery ; " for, alas ! the very readiness 
 of which you accuse me ever has been absent among my 
 qualities. That a man should yield to circumstances 
 which menace his fortunes, and his very life as well, 
 proves, not his readiness, but his adaptability and com- 
 mon-sense. We shall get on better, my lady, if we meet 
 our punishment with the proper spirit." 
 
 " With the proper spirit ! " cried the Lady Agathe 
 wrathfully. " We shall get on better ! " 
 
 Her head tossed contemptuously, but he continued, 
 without taking apparent notice : 
 
 " Let us look at the matter fairly. Count Charles 
 and the constable, for reasons of their own, have decided 
 on this match. That makes any say of ours superfluous. 
 Self-destruction alone could set us free, and really, my 
 lady, for myself, I think that unwarranted in the case. 
 What is it that confronts us? Merely that you should 
 ally yourself to one Monsieur Vignolles, a man of modest 
 fortune, 'tis true, but with prospects of its betterment; 
 a man whose person is at least not repulsive " (he paused 
 to give an upward twirl to his moustaches), " and a man 
 whom five and a score years have left with an infinite 
 capacity for enjoying life." 
 
 " What allurements ! " she said scornfully. 
 
 " Qualities, my lady ; qualities only," he replied 
 90
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 quickly. " For myself, the penalty I pay is scarce 
 greater. I am to renounce the pleasures of my present 
 worldly state, thrust aside the charms of all womankind, 
 and attach myself in all devotion to one of the most beau- 
 tiful of her sex for, indeed, you are very beautiful, my 
 lady." 
 
 He bowed low over his pommel. 
 
 " And I find you of extreme ugliness, monsieur," said 
 the Lady Agathe, knowing full well that her words were 
 but the outcome of spite, since, as Monseigneur had said, 
 there was much that was pleasing in Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles's very youth and the way he bore himself. More- 
 over, she had not found any suitable rejoinder springing 
 to her lips. 
 
 " A thousand thanks for your frankness, my lady," 
 said he quickly. " Ugliness often enough becomes even 
 pleasing with familiarity and is prone to be the partner 
 of fidelity. Besides, it is well that we begin by being 
 candid with each other, which leads me to say that there 
 is a certain sourness in your manner of speech but ill 
 comporting with your charming exterior, my lady." 
 
 She turned angrily upon him. 
 
 " And you would presume to pass upon my actions 
 you! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Tis but anticipating my future duty, my lady," he 
 answered promptly. " Since you must share my name 
 and fame, I would that I might point to you as a model 
 of all the graces." 
 
 For a moment blind resentment kept her from reply- 
 ing. The first great drops, precursors of the flood be- 
 hind, fell suddenly upon them as they rode onward, and 
 Monsieur Vignolles drew his mantle from its saddle- 
 fastening and, shaking it out, took refuge within its 
 ample folds. As he did so the Lady Agathe spoke, and 
 7 91
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 he looked up quickly, for her tone, far from exhibit- 
 ing the anger he had expected, was almost wheedling. 
 He saw that evidently she had decided on another 
 course. 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles, if I have spoken harshly, it 
 has been because I am scarce myself," she said. " You 
 indeed may speak lightly of this marriage they would 
 force upon us; you are a man and " 
 
 " And, therefore, fearful of naught ? " he inquired, 
 while the rain came faster and faster and the play of 
 lightning ever became more constant. 
 
 She paid no heed to his gibe. 
 
 " You are a man, and see it not in all its horror. But 
 I am a woman, Monsieur Vignolles, and sooner than wed 
 one whom I scarcely know, I will kill myself, even as 
 you have suggested. Therein lies the difference in the 
 way we regard it. You are not without some gallantry, 
 monsieur. I beseech you, compel me not to such end." 
 
 " You know, my Lady Agathe, that what I do, I, too, 
 am compelled to," he answered, for the pleading in her 
 voice had reached his heart. " By my faith, ask of me 
 any service that I may perform, and I swear 
 
 " Then I demand that you set me free ere we have 
 gone another pace on this road to Bruges, Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles. These men-at-arms, they will obey you; send 
 them ahead on some pretext. Oh, I pray you let me go, 
 sir ! It can pass as an escape ; arrange the manner of its 
 accomplishment yourself. Only set me free with my 
 women, for I would sooner wander the forest till death 
 o'ertook me than advance farther along this road to 
 living shame." 
 
 The downpour was now upon them. Though the 
 hour was but mid-day, the darkness of evening had set- 
 tled over the country, and the crash of thunder followed 
 
 t 92 
 
 I
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 hard upon the blinding flares in the leaden sky. Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles pulled up shortly. 
 
 " We may, in truth, proceed no farther till the storm 
 be ended, my lady," he said. " If we gain the ledge 
 under yon overhanging bank, we shall have some shelter ; 
 your women may refuge beneath the cart," and with 
 that he gave directions to the dripping men-at-arms to 
 place blankets about the sides of the vehicle, so that a 
 species of tent was arranged, wherein the women sought 
 cover. 
 
 He then turned to the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " Come, my lady," he said, dropping from his saddle 
 and proffering his shoulder, that she might dismount. 
 
 In another moment he was leading her rapidly up 
 the bank by the roadside till they had reached the narrow 
 ledge of which he had spoken. The men below dis- 
 mounted to ease their beasts, and crept beneath the near- 
 est trees, the helmets and breast and back plates of their 
 armour reflecting the lightning in vivid patches amid 
 the foliage. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles spoke at once. 
 
 " My Lady Agathe, what you have asked is beyond 
 me to grant. Had I but shown scruple or objection to 
 my Lord the Constable's wish, 'twould have meant my 
 ruin. Did I now permit your flight, not alone Luxem- 
 bourg, but every province of France, would be forbid 
 me. You know not the influence the Count de St. Pol 
 holds with King Louis, even though he now does aid 
 the House of Burgundy. Moreover, to turn you loose 
 among these hills, infested as they are with the scum of 
 the Ardennes, were but to have a hand in your death." 
 
 " Yet I would have it rather than " 
 
 " Than have aught in common with the ugly Monsieur 
 Vignolles," he cut in, with some return of his old man- 
 
 93
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 ner, yet quickly becoming serious enough. " By my faith, 
 my lady, there are many who would agree with you, me- 
 thinks, yet 'tis no question of likes or dislikes ; and what 
 would you have that I should become a cast-out, hunted 
 thing whom all men fear to shelter ? Ha ! My taste lies 
 not that way, my Lady Agathe." 
 
 " Bah ! You call yourself a man, Monsieur Vignolles, 
 yet have thought only for yourself." 
 
 He winced, despite himself, beneath her contempt. 
 
 " I have in mind one other, who now wanders the 
 land, stripped of all he once possessed. I forget not the 
 Sieur Giraud, my lady," he said grimly. 
 
 " He, at least, would play a different part than the 
 one you do, monsieur," she said proudly. 
 
 " He not only would, but did, play it differently, my 
 Lady Agathe; with what result you have seen. I tell 
 you again, and frankly, that if it were possible I would 
 avoid this marriage as well as yourself ; but I am no such 
 fool as to dare either Count Charles or my Lord the Con- 
 stable. I beg you speak no more of escape, for to Bruges 
 I must see you safely." 
 
 His words were positive enough, and rang despair in 
 her ears ; yet he felt miserably in uttering them, and his 
 heart was touched by her apparent grief. But Monsieur 
 Vignolles had not spoken idle excuse, and knew that any 
 trifling with his master's will meant worse than death to 
 him. Moreover, he was young and full of the joy of 
 living, and, to speak truly, the beauty of the Lady 
 Agathe had visibly affected him. 
 
 Ere either of them might speak again the doleful 
 hoot of an owl arose from among the trees across the 
 roadway. In an instant a reply sounded sharp and clear 
 above the downpour from the bank above their heads, 
 and with it came the whir of an arrow's flight. Mon- 
 
 94
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 sieur Vignolles leaped from the shelter he had taken, to 
 see the missile embed itself in the flank of one of the 
 horses, which, according to custom, had been tied to- 
 gether by threes. Instantly the tortured animal was 
 lashing out on all sides, setting the others to kicking 
 in turn, and finally resulting in the whole six galloping 
 off in confusion. From their retreat under the trees 
 the men-at-arms came hurrying forth, their curses min- 
 gling with the shrieks that arose from beneath the cart, 
 and went plunging through the heavy mud after their 
 mounts. 
 
 " Stop, fools ! " he roared, for 'twas in his mind that 
 whence had come that arrow lay further trouble of 
 greater import than the horses at the moment. But a 
 crash of thunder made his cry less than a child's wailing, 
 and the next moment they were gone. 
 
 " Stay where you are, my lady," he cried, when he 
 could make himself heard, and, turning on his heel, went 
 down the bank, his boots leaving a heavily ploughed trail 
 behind him in the soft soil. 
 
 The women had thrust their heads forth in terror 
 from beneath the dripping blankets, and he gruffly bade 
 them keep out of sight. Then, ripping his sword from 
 its sheath, he plunged headlong into the underbrush in 
 the direction from which he judged the arrow had sped. 
 As he did so two silent figures lowered themselves from 
 the bank and crept upon the Lady Agathe, who had no 
 eyes or ears for aught save the movements of Monsieur 
 Vignolles. Nor did she awaken to her danger till sinewy 
 hands held her helpless ; a coarse gag was thrust into her 
 mouth, and she was being deftly bound hand and foot. 
 
 " Well played, and sooner than we had looked for it, 
 thanks to the storm," muttered one of her captors to the 
 other. 
 
 95
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 The other grunted his assent, and the two, having 
 secured the Lady Agathe to their liking, lifted her, and, 
 between them, bore her quickly up the slope. As they 
 scrambled over the top, Monsieur Vignolles met them 
 not ten paces distant. He had seen no sign of an enemy 
 within the wood, and having at last bethought himself 
 of the Lady Agathe, had worked his way back toward 
 where she had been left. With a loud cry he rushed 
 upon them, his great sword aloft, and so taken by sur- 
 prise were the two, that they let their burden slip to the 
 ground and fled on either side into the wood. But he 
 had seen the cruel gag in her mouth and made no at- 
 tempt at pursuit, kneeling at her side and removing it 
 with all gentleness. 
 
 " God grant you have suffered no hurt, my lady ! " 
 he said. " 'Tis far north indeed for these knaves of Mar- 
 celle to be at work ; but the range of that she-devil seems 
 to know no limits." 
 
 " Marcelle ! These were, then, her followers ? " 
 gasped the Lady Agathe, while he rapidly undid her 
 bonds. 
 
 " Ay, for I recognised the villainous face of one of 
 them who bore you, my lady. 'Twas the very rogue 
 who did me the same office Tite they call him." 
 
 So intent was he upon his work of releasing her, that 
 it was her own sharp cry that caused him to whirl about 
 and half rise. Too late ! Ere he might gain his feet a 
 rope settled about his neck and he was jerked flat upon 
 his back. This time he had to do, not with two, but with 
 a half-score foes, who seemed- to have sprung from the 
 earth. The struggle was short and sharp, but too un- 
 equal. In a moment he was gagged and bound as help- 
 lessly as had been the Lady Agathe. 
 
 At that instant there reached them the sound of the 
 96
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 men-at-arms returning; their loud voices and the thud 
 of the recaptured horses' hoofs on the muddy road 
 below. Monsieur Vignolles made frantic appeal with 
 his eyes to the Lady Agathe, and, fearful of its success, 
 two of the band left him and sprang toward her. Before 
 they might lay hand upon her she had said quickly, 
 checking them by something in her manner: 
 
 " No, Monsieur Vignolles, I shall not call. Rather 
 than that, I will chance Marcelle the Mad. Such people 
 have their price, and I will buy " 
 
 But here a muttered oath from Tite, who sat astride 
 Monsieur Vignolles, urged the men on, and they choked 
 off her further utterance. 
 
 Back into the forest they were swiftly borne, 
 doubling and turning till all trace of their direction 
 was lost, even had there been any pursuit. At last they 
 halted, and, under the dripping leaves, Tite and another 
 set to work to fashion a kind of rude litter from saplings 
 which they hacked down with their huge knives. When 
 it was finished to their liking, the Lady Agathe was 
 placed thereon; but before starting afresh Tite ap- 
 proached Monsieur Vignolles and severed his bonds, 
 removing the gag as well. Nor did Monsieur Vignolles 
 move, since the ready arrows of the others were turned 
 toward him, and to shout now would have been folly. 
 
 " And now go, monsieur ! " said Tite. " We have no 
 wish for your company ! Your sword we shall keep this 
 time as a token go ! " 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles turned and seemed about to leave 
 them, his head bent low upon his breast ; but of a sudden 
 he swung about and his glance sought the Lady Agathe, 
 and, having met her look, he stood a moment in silence. 
 Then Tite came before him and would have spoken, save 
 that the other anticipated him and spoke first. 
 
 97
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " So be it ; I will go," he said quietly ; " but 'twill be 
 with you. Give the word, man ! " 
 
 Tite growled angrily. 
 
 " That may not be, monsieur ; I hold no instructions 
 regarding you. Be off while you have the chance." 
 
 " I have said that I go with you," answered Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles coolly, and unconsciously came near to 
 the Lady Agathe, while Tite conferred aside with the 
 others. 
 
 " Why why do you do this, monsieur ? " she said 
 in a low tone. " Go go while your life is safe, I pray 
 you." 
 
 He smiled; his most heedless smile it was, and mock 
 surprise was in his elevated brows. 
 
 " Go, my lady ? And am I not, then, your affianced 
 spouse ? A fine figure I should cut, forsooth ! " 
 
 She turned her head in anger, yet his determination 
 to follow scarce displeased her. Willingly, in truth, she 
 had chosen to face Marcelle rather than go farther on 
 that road to Bruges ; but she confessed that his presence 
 would do much to relieve her fears. 
 
 Tite turned now and said: 
 
 " You may not go with us, monsieur ; so speak no 
 further thereon, but be off. There are those here who 
 are for tying you to the nearest tree, as it is." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! " was the general cry. 
 
 " Moreover, Marcelle " 
 
 " I will answer to Marcelle," said Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles. " This lady is, or was, under my protection ; 
 that is sufficient reason for my going." 
 
 " Not for me, monsieur ; unless unless the lady so 
 desires it. My orders were to use all gentleness and 
 attend her wishes so far as might be. You would like 
 monsieur to accompany you, my lady ? " 
 
 98
 
 A CHANGE OF ESCORT 
 
 The Lady Agathe's gaze wandered from Tite to Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles and there remained. Had she been able 
 to tear from that look she would have said " No." She 
 was conscious that his will was strong upon her so 
 strong that she writhed under its power; but she spoke 
 quietly enough: 
 
 " Yes, I desire that Monsieur Vignolles accompany 
 me." 
 
 " Enough ! " growled Tite, and on a sign from him 
 the litter was raised and the bedraggled party set forth 
 again through the sodden forest on the long trip south- 
 ward. 
 
 And in the rear, his fine attire plastered with mud, 
 and the harsh welt of the rope still red upon his neck, 
 strode Monsieur Vignolles. Ever and anon his gaze 
 rested upon the fair head of the Lady Agathe before 
 him, and as often he smiled strangely. 
 
 99
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 MY LORD'S MESSENGER 
 
 WHAT strange motive had impelled Marcelle 
 to send Tite and the others forth upon this 
 errand which had resulted in the seizure 
 of the Lady Agathe? She herself could 
 scarce have told had one questioned her thereon, yet to 
 her inner consciousness it was clear enough. 
 
 When she had fled like a startled fawn from the Sieur 
 Giraud's side the idea had already flashed itself upon her 
 mind. How far she had sped through the forest she 
 knew not; but at length she had thrown herself down 
 in the darkest of green recesses, and here, with the tears 
 blinding her sight and great sobs convulsing her slight 
 form, she had fought it out with herself. The Sieur 
 Giraud had said that she might not understand, might 
 not feel this mighty passion which, even as he had spoken, 
 was rendering her distracted. Ay, and he had spoken 
 to her in such tone of patronage as he might have used 
 to a child. How could the man have stood so near her 
 and yet not have felt the heart-ache she suffered, not 
 heard her cry for one word of love nay, even sympathy 
 and understanding from him ? How could he have done 
 so, forsooth? Because of that other, the Lady Agathe, 
 who possessed his mind above all else in the world. And 
 as she had thought of this, her small hands had clenched 
 in fury, yet after a moment a strange quiet had crept 
 over her, and again the thought that had been roused 
 
 loo
 
 MY LORD'S MESSENGER 
 
 within her had filled her mind. What manner of woman 
 was this who could so hold a man to her memory ; what 
 charm did she possess which she, Marcelle, so sadly 
 lacked? In truth, therein lay the secret of the Sieur 
 Giraud's devotion ; therein the quality which she would 
 give her very life to attain. 
 
 And now she knew that the chance had been offered 
 her of acquiring this knowledge, for the thought which 
 had come to her was naught else than that of seizing 
 the Lady Agathe as she journeyed from Namur. The 
 more she conjured upon it, the more she was inclined 
 thereto. Did she leave her to go on her way to Bruges, 
 in truth, the woman would scarce be of further trouble 
 to her, yet she knew that in such case the grief of the 
 man, besides cutting her to the heart, would only too 
 surely prevent his paying her a thought. He was scarce 
 the sort who would turn from one woman to another 
 for solace. 
 
 And so she had decided. She would have the Lady 
 Agathe seized and brought before her; the proud head 
 should humble itself before Marcelle, the despised thing 
 of the hills, and face to face she would confront the 
 woman who held the affections of the man she loved. 
 The success of the plan should be assured though its 
 accomplishment meant a long march northward for the 
 country through which the Lady Agathe would travel 
 was comparatively free of Companions, and a small 
 escort would therefore be deemed sufficient. 
 
 The matter once decided, Marcelle felt that a great 
 weight had been lifted from her mind. She started to 
 rise to make her way back to the camp, but fell back 
 quickly at the sound of voices in low discourse. Those 
 who spoke were coming through the forest in her direc- 
 tion, and she crouched softly beneath the thick under- 
 
 101
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 growth that hedged in her retreat as with a wall. She 
 was conscious of a redness about the eyes of which she 
 would not have others of the band make note ; she would 
 wait till they had passed. But, alas for such plan! for, 
 as they came opposite her, one spoke, and she marvelled 
 to find it was a strange voice. 
 
 " By St. Hubert, I'll go no farther into the forest ! 
 Over five leagues have I ridden, with scarce a breath, 
 and now you would march me through all the Ardennes, 
 methinks. If this be no safe place for what we have 
 to say, then are you fearful of your very shadow upon 
 the leaves, man." 
 
 " Ay, 'tis safe enough here," answered the other 
 quickly, and Marcelle started, for it was the voice of 
 Crepin Brune. " Yet I do know the beaten paths 
 through this wood better than you may, monsieur, and 
 know as well when I have left them behind; but now 
 may you speak freely. Last night word reached me 
 from the old vine-grower, Meux, that you would come 
 to-day ; but, in truth, I see not why we meet here, rather 
 than at his house, as before." 
 
 So Poncet's father had a hand in the meeting of 
 Crepin and this stranger. Marcelle took an added inter- 
 est in their talk. 
 
 " What I have to say is for your ears alone," an- 
 swered the other. " Besides, my lord has taken some 
 distrust of this old man Meux; but let us come to the 
 point. We know, thanks to you, that the Sieur Giraud 
 d'Orson now numbers himself among your company." 
 
 " Ay, curse him ! But for him I should not still be 
 striped with welts the size of your thumb ! " replied 
 Crepin sourly. 
 
 " In truth, he is held in higher favour elsewhere since 
 Count Charles has been heard bitterly to bemoan his 
 
 102
 
 MY LORD'S MESSENGER 
 
 loss," said the stranger. " Methinks that ne'er had he 
 man about him so greatly in his trust, and would give 
 much for his return, could his pride be overcome." 
 
 " To the devil with the Sieur Giraud ! I came not 
 here to listen to his praises ; proceed with your business," 
 growled Crepin, and the two seated themselves on the 
 ground scarce two paces from Marcelle, yet so dense was 
 her cover that she might not see them. 
 
 " The Sieur Giraud forms part of the matter in 
 hand," replied the man; "but listen; that will appear. 
 Count Charles has planned to reconnoitre the country 
 for some three leagues from Namur two days hence. 
 He will lead one party in person and will sweep the hills, 
 while the Count de St. Pol brings his men up the valley 
 along the river. The two forces will rendezvous at noon 
 on the Great Bald Knoll, where the river makes a sharp 
 bend to the right. You know the spot? " 
 
 Crepin grunted as though the question were too futile 
 for words, and the stranger continued: 
 
 " From here they will return to Namur with such 
 game as they may have bagged " 
 
 " Little enough that will be," cut in Crepin. " But 
 I see not the reasoning of all this, nor how it concerns 
 the Sieur Giraud." 
 
 " Were my lord's designs for such as you to divine, 
 they would scarce be worth the repeating; do but lend 
 an ear, and hold your tongue till I be ended ! " said the 
 man sharply. " Since you know the place of rendezvous, 
 that is enough, for there lies your work. You will know, 
 as well, that the house of the old vine-grower, Meux, 
 is not far removed therefrom." 
 
 " Scarce the range of a full bow, as the arrow would 
 fall," answered Crepin, and added stubbornly, " But what 
 of that, forsooth ? That you meditate some move against 
 
 103
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 this cursed Charles of Burgundy I know well enough ; 
 but I am no fool to throw myself under the boar's tusks, 
 much as I would hail his end." 
 
 " You are a fool, and over-fond of talk withal," cried 
 the stranger, and rose in anger. " We shall find another 
 and more tractable agent ; one who will show the same 
 readiness in performing his work as in grasping his pay, 
 which first you do not, Monsieur Crepin." 
 
 " The devil ! I am ready enough, man, if I see my 
 way clear," answered Crepin, and there was much fear 
 in his voice lest he lose the reward the other had adroitly 
 suggested. " But, by my faith, I am not mad enough 
 to set upon the Count de Charolais surrounded by a 
 squadron of men-at-arms, which rnethinks you would 
 propose ! " 
 
 " Dolt, I said naught that could be so construed ! " 
 replied the man, while Marcelle felt herself tremble with 
 the agitation his words had roused. " No one asks you 
 to risk your precious skin, Monsieur Crepin; but what 
 if Count Charles should be more bold and come alone to 
 the house of our friend Meux? Would you then draw 
 bow with steadier hand ? " 
 
 " You speak madness ; the man is bold enough, God 
 knows, but " 
 
 " The thing can be arranged. My lord has said so, 
 and he is not given to idle dreams, Monsieur Crepin, 
 and here the Sieur Giraud becomes of moment in the 
 game. It is no secret that the slur cast upon Count 
 Charles's birth by the fools of Dinant your pardon, 
 monsieur gnaws consumedly at his heart. He will 
 know no peace of mind till that be avenged in blood, 
 and, most of all, he burns with craving for the life of 
 that Gaspard Lenoir who led the rabble that night before 
 the walls of Bouvignes." 
 
 104
 
 MY LORD'S MESSENGER 
 
 " Ha, I may well believe that ! " laughed Crepin. 
 
 " Then the rest will be plain to you," said the other 
 shortly. " Here is this Gaspard Lenoir, whom Count 
 Charles would give almost his hand to hold; there is 
 the Sieur Giraud, who would hesitate at naught to make 
 his peace with his old master. Equip the Sieur Giraud 
 with some knowledge of Gaspard Lenoir some certain 
 power by which he can place him in Count Charles's 
 hands and the result is plain enough." 
 
 " But the Sieur Giraud knows naught of Gaspard 
 Lenoir," cried Crepin. 
 
 " Therefore it is for you to inform him," replied the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Not I ! I would be torn to pieces by the band or 
 by any of the thousands of Companions," cried Crepin. 
 " Moreover, I know little of the man myself, though 
 once I heard him speak before the people." 
 
 " It is not that you shall say anything true of the 
 man Lenoir, anything that shall put him in danger. We 
 care not for the man's life, so be it he serves our purpose. 
 Inform the Sieur Giraud that you know the man, can 
 arrange for his capture, and that you will turn him over to 
 him, provided he swears to reward you later and afford 
 you his protection. He will see naught in it save your 
 greed of gain, and will promise, I'll be sworn. The trick 
 will serve, for the man is desperate and will do anything 
 to retrieve his fortunes." 
 
 " Well ; and then ? " said Crepin, with some show of 
 eagerness. 
 
 " Then there remains but to induce him to write 
 Count Charles, advising him of what he knows or thinks 
 he knows of this Gaspard Lenoir, and begging for a 
 chance of speaking with him. With this will end the 
 Sieur Giraud's part." 
 
 105
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " End his part ! " said Crepin stupidly. 
 
 "Ay; and much thanks shall we owe him," answered 
 the other. " The postscript which shall carry the real 
 meat of the letter shall be my task, and, in truth, I will 
 have lost my cunning if, with a copy of the man's hand 
 before me, I may not make it seem the work of one. 
 My lord chooses those who serve him with some care, 
 Monsieur Crepin. Be at ease ; Count Charles will go to 
 the vine-grower's house on the morrow." 
 
 " Perchance, with threescore or more at his back," 
 sneered Crepin. 
 
 " He will go alone. What has he to fear from the 
 Sieur Giraud? The man may have been guilty of med- 
 dling with women, as the report is, but otherwise he 
 never had swerved in his loyalty. Besides, pride runs 
 in no man stronger than in the Count de Charolais, and 
 he fain would have no common topic made of this Gas- 
 pard Lenoir and his work at Bouvignes. In his presence 
 none dare mention it." 
 
 " But he will soon see the trick," persisted Crepin. 
 " The Sieur Giraud will not be there and " 
 
 " And you will, Monsieur Crepin," cut in the 
 stranger. " You will be there in the thicket at the 
 side of the path leading to the door. If you get him 
 not, then but faith, man! Even mail may not with- 
 stand full bow at three paces, and two hundred golden 
 crowns should serve to make you hold steady. This is the 
 work I bring you from my master, Monsieur Crepin. 
 In other ways it might be accomplished, yet with some 
 danger of his hand showing in it. Come; what say 
 you?" 
 
 " By my faith, 'twould please me much to make an 
 end of this ' Charlotel ' ! " cried Crepin. " And serve to 
 make me the greatest of all among these hills. I'll do 
 
 1 06
 
 MY LORD'S MESSENGER 
 
 it, monsieur. I'll be in the thicket at the vine-grower's 
 at noon two days hence. Do you but attend to your 
 share as well." 
 
 " And the letter ? " asked the other. 
 
 " Ay, and I will get the letter from the Sieur Giraud," 
 responded Crepin, rising, " save he suspect me, which I 
 scarce fear, for I shall have a tale to tell him of Gaspard 
 Lenoir that shall do me credit. Do you wait where I 
 first met you, near the dead oak, and it shall be in your 
 hands soon." 
 
 He paused a moment; then, drawing near to the 
 other, said shrewdly: 
 
 " Yet I would know the name of this master you 
 serve ; this one you call ' my lord/ for " 
 
 " That you shall not, Monsieur Crepin," answered 
 the man ; " for to tell you would mean my death did it 
 reach my lord's ears. Two hundred crowns in gold you 
 shall have if you succeed; but none of your meddling. 
 The offer is fair, and here are a score as warranty of 
 our faith. Take the task or leave it for some other, as 
 you will." 
 
 But Crepin had already pounced upon the gold, and 
 Marcelle heard its chink as it passed into his hands. 
 
 Without another word the two parted and stole away 
 silently through the forest. 
 
 Marcelle lay motionless, but with wide-staring eyes, 
 until they should be far from earshot ; then with a bound 
 leaped to her feet and glided off like a shadow among 
 the trees. 
 
 As she approached the camp, the " tap, tap " of a 
 hammer upon metal greeted her ears, and a moment 
 later she came upon Tite, who sat apart from the others, 
 busily engaged in fashioning a rough sheet of brass he 
 had somehow acquired into some semblance of a dish. 
 8 107
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 The old man would revert to the calling which once 
 had meant his livelihood even in this wild life he now 
 led. At sight of him there returned to her with all its 
 force the decision she had taken, and she beckoned him 
 aside. Their talk lasted till the evening shadows were 
 merging into gloom and the camp fires, from a sickly 
 yellow, flared redly, for Tite raised many objections to 
 her wishes. At length, however, he nodded grimly, and, 
 making his way through the men, touched here and there 
 one whom he bade follow him, till some half-score were 
 at his heels. By his direction these waited only to help 
 themselves generously from the camp kettle, and, having 
 eaten hurriedly, seized their bows and slipped away with 
 him into the growing darkness. With a long tramp 
 before him, Tite preferred being on the spot first and 
 resting afterward. 
 
 Marcelle watched them go with a fierce joy in her 
 heart, yet it was a joy much tempered by the uneasiness 
 which the words of Crepin and the stranger had given 
 her. She knew now that there was some one in Count 
 Charles's own following some one of position, since the 
 man had called him " my lord " who desired the 
 count's death even as much as any of those about her. 
 Who this was she made no attempt to guess, yet be- 
 lieved it to be one who worked at the behest of King 
 Louis, for he would give much to know that the bane 
 of his ambitions had been removed. 
 
 The uneasiness that Marcelle felt was not in any 
 sense due to any compunction. She believed with all 
 her heart that the death of the Count de Charolais would 
 accomplish more for her people than aught else might, 
 yet she had shuddered at hearing these cold-blooded 
 plans for its accomplishment. Also the manner of 
 Crepin's playing the spy and becoming the tool of others 
 
 108
 
 MY LORD'S MESSENGER 
 
 without her knowledge served to enrage her beyond 
 bounds. Yet, in truth, the man had done naught which 
 the Companions would not applaud, and, were his intent 
 successful, would, indeed, be hailed as a saviour. 
 
 She walked slowly within the circle of light, her head 
 upon her breast and her mind deep in thought. Petite 
 Maman and the other women ceased their noisy chatter, 
 and Poncet addressed her some question concerning 
 Tite's mission, but she seemed not to hear, and, as she 
 raised her head, her eyes travelled swiftly among them 
 until they rested upon the figure of the Sieur Giraud. 
 He sat aloof from the rest, but even as she looked he 
 rose, and she saw that he held in one hand a folded bit 
 of parchment. Crepin, then, had not failed. 
 
 Poncet had followed Marcelle's gaze with his own, 
 and now, thinking to see an opportunity for merriment, 
 leaped to his feet and, pointing to the Sieur Giraud, de- 
 risively cried: 
 
 " Ho, you there, Petite Maman, and you, Bonne 
 Fleuron, you who be past-mistresses in the ways of love, 
 what think you of a man who, having ruined himself 
 for a woman, would still tempt fate? Regard yon love- 
 sick face of the Sieur Giraud and the letter freshly com- 
 posed to well, whom think you, the same or another? 
 and, if another, which of you has supplanted the first 
 wench ? " 
 
 Poncet's tone indicated that he himself loved them 
 all and waited their answer in agonised suspense, and 
 was greeted with a wild burst of laughter. 
 
 " Do you let the man alone ! " cried Petite Maman, 
 for the Sieur Giraud was liked for what he was not by 
 these women. " When he meddles in your affairs 'twill 
 be time enough " 
 
 The sentence was never ended, for the Sieur Giraud 
 109
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 had come quietly to the side of Poncet and, holding him 
 with something in his eye, seemed to meditate a retort. 
 An instant later his jaw shut sharply on the speech and 
 he knocked Poncet flat upon his back. Nor was Poncet 
 fully aware what had occurred until well-nigh a half- 
 hour afterward. And then the Sieur Giraud stood there 
 waiting for the others whom he looked to set upon him ; 
 but there was no move made, and the truth was that he 
 had made a greater stride in the company's favour with 
 that blow than he knew. They could not understand 
 the sentiment which had led the Sieur Giraud to his 
 present state ; but they were all at heart with a man who 
 could deal such blow in squaring an offence. It had 
 been workmanlike. As for the women, they screamed 
 their approval in shrill tones. 
 
 At last the Sieur Giraud turned and caught Mar- 
 celle's eye upon him. 
 
 " Your pardon for such scene, but, in truth, it could 
 scarce be helped," he said, and smiled. 
 
 " I know ; I have heard," she answered quietly, and 
 then, as by chance, " But where is Crepin ? I had 
 thought to find him here, and " 
 
 " He was here within the half-hour, and left, saying 
 that he would return shortly," said the Sieur Giraud 
 quickly. " I know not what should have taken him off 
 in such haste, especially as he but waited for me to have 
 ended " 
 
 He checked himself suddenly. 
 
 "That letter?" said Marcelle, and moved a little 
 aside from the others, so that he must follow. 
 
 He bowed his assent, for denial would have been use- 
 less after the way he had betrayed himself; then added 
 in a low tone: 
 
 " Marcelle, I came to you disgraced, dishonoured, a 
 no
 
 MY LORD'S MESSENGER 
 
 driven thing before all the world. You saved me from 
 the death I welcomed, and in return I pledged myself 
 to follow you and you alone during your pleasure. If 
 by any chance my old station could be restored me, 
 would you release me from my word?" 
 
 She now was certain from his earnestness that Crepin 
 had indeed raised the dying ambition in the man. 
 
 " Release you ? Why should I do so ? " she asked 
 sharply. " We are well content with your services ; do 
 you try to be content with your lot, Sieur Giraud. But 
 methinks there is some connection between your request 
 and this letter, as you speak of them in the same breath, 
 and you make use of strange messengers, since Crepin 
 is so favoured." 
 
 He made no reply, but involuntarily thrust the parch- 
 ment within his belt. As for Marcelle, she longed to 
 put an end to this indirect and false talk and do this man 
 she loved a real service by informing him of the base 
 use to which he was being put. Yet to do so meant that 
 she should ruin the cherished wish of those who looked 
 with all confidence to her for guidance; meant that she, 
 of all others, should step in to save the life of him they 
 execrated, the Count de Charolais. And, as though this 
 were not enough, it meant that the Sieur Giraud, oath or 
 no oath, would for ever pass out of her life, for she well 
 knew that, did he suspect this conspiracy, never would 
 he remain a moment with them. No ; this must not be ; 
 she could not bear it now. Crepin must be left a free 
 hand. 
 
 And as though in answer to her thought, Crepin him- 
 self parted the brush at the side and, looking swiftly 
 about, saw them and strode in their direction. Fearful 
 lest the stranger might depart, he had been to beg him 
 wait yet a little while. The Sieur Giraud had needed 
 
 in
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 much convincing. As he came forward, the Sieur Giraud 
 looked up quickly and said, as though he had fought the 
 matter out and was decided enough: 
 
 " Your terms were more harsh than I thought at the 
 time, but I warn you, Marcelle, that I, who ne'er yet 
 have broken my word, will have small regard for it 
 if " 
 
 Again he checked himself. In truth, it seemed that 
 the rising hope within him was robbing him of all dis- 
 cretion. 
 
 " You speak strangely of a return to your former 
 condition, Sieur Giraud," said Marcelle. " I warn you, 
 in return, that any attempt of yours to re-enter the ser- 
 vice of the Count de Charolais would mean your death ; 
 and that you know, as well." And then, with a little 
 laugh and shrug of the shoulders, as though his words 
 had been too futile for consideration, she added, " Yet 
 I will promise you such relief as you may gain from 
 that letter." 
 
 The next moment, as Crepin came up, she turned to 
 join Petite Maman and the others grouped round the 
 fire. The Sieur Giraud even smiled at her last words. 
 Little she knew, he thought, of what his letter conveyed, 
 else had she already brought him face to face with the 
 wrath of the band, the wrath that would wreak a terrible 
 vengeance on any who should dare hunt down this Gas- 
 pard Lenoir. It had been a close matter, and he wiped 
 a drop of sweat from his brow. 
 
 Marcelle, looking up for an instant, beheld Crepin 
 disappearing into the wood, and caught the white flutter 
 of something in his hand against the green background. 
 Then he was gone. 
 
 112
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 THE same storm which had so pitilessly descended 
 upon Monsieur Vignolles and the Lady Agathe 
 had swept along the river valley and passed 
 with shattering force away to the southward, 
 over the Ardennes hills. Where its path had been, many 
 a shivered tree-trunk swayed yellow and creaking in the 
 after-gale, dread witnesses of the omnipotence of Heaven. 
 For three hours the rain had lasted, with a downrush 
 that threatened to wash the Companions bodily out from 
 nature's refuges the caverns in the cut banks where 
 they had taken shelter. 
 
 Now that the tempest had passed on, and only the dis- 
 tant grumble of thunder remained of all the tumult, they 
 came crawling from their retreats like so many rabbits 
 when the dogs have swept past. 
 
 Turbid yellow torrents now filled the stream beds 
 where before had been only dry boulders; great fresh 
 gashes were gouged in the hillsides, telling scars of the 
 flood that had been, and over all was the pervading smell 
 of damp earth and the moist fragrance of the dripping 
 pines. Yet it is doubtful if any note of all this was made 
 by those who came forth into the light of day. Other 
 affairs occupied their minds to the exclusion of all else. 
 
 Before the storm had broken upon them, the Sieur 
 Giraud had reported the approach of another band of 
 Companions, a band with which they had had many pre-
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 vious skirmishes, and who were wont to trespass on what 
 the followers of Marcelle deemed their territory by force 
 of possession and might. The invaders had succeeded in 
 making off with Andre Vaucler, and the Sieur Giraud 
 had barely escaped them. Now there was but one 
 thought in all their minds to fall upon these marauders 
 ere they might recover from the drenching they had en- 
 dured. Andre Vaucler must be retaken and these fools 
 taught a lesson they would never forget. So fought 
 these outlaws of the Ardennes among themselves with 
 all the weapons that bitterness and treachery could sug- 
 gest, united though they were in their common hatred 
 of the Bishop of Liege and the Burgundian faction. 
 
 And now they would have none but the Sieur Giraud 
 at their head. He it was who had barely missed capture 
 himself, and so he should lead them to the spot. Nor 
 was he loath to accept the office. He had done his best 
 to save Andre, through no great love of the man, it was 
 true, but because of that spirit which renders a man 
 prompt to fight against odds at all times. Moreover, 
 he was nursing a flesh wound of one arm, where an 
 arrow had grazed it, and was in fit mood for the under- 
 taking. Marcelle, therefore, had made no protest to his 
 selection, and, in truth, there had been much of pride in 
 the look with which she had watched him go. She took 
 it as a sort of unwitting approval of her love for the 
 man. 
 
 Thus the camp had been almost stripped of Compan- 
 ions. She had kept Crepin and some half dozen others, 
 the former because she now preferred to have an eye on 
 his movements ; the latter, in case any trouble should 
 have befallen Tite and he should send for assistance. 
 That the Sieur Giraud would not accomplish all he set 
 out to do never entered her head for a moment. 
 
 114
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 Two hours passed, and the afternoon was drawing 
 to an end, when Tite stole like a shade from the wood 
 and approached the rude cabin the Companions had set 
 up for their leader. Marcelle had been on the watch, 
 and met him before the low portal. 
 
 " You have failed, Tite ? " she said quietly. 
 
 " Had I done so, I should not have come back, Mar- 
 celle," he answered, " for methinks the success of the 
 business meant much to you. They wait below. I would 
 not have them march into camp till I saw that all was 
 well." 
 
 " Right, as you always are, Tite," she said kindly, 
 and with relief in her voice. " How fares the lady ? 
 There was no no accident ? " 
 
 " Your wishes were enough to insure against that, 
 Marcelle. There was no accident, unless bringing you 
 more than you bargained for may be called such, for, 
 besides my lady, I have gathered in once more that Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles." 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles ! And why " 
 
 " He was in charge of the escort, and, after we stam- 
 peded them, 'twas his wish to accompany us. By my 
 faith, 'twas none to my liking, and I would have settled 
 that quick enough, only my lady desired him to come as 
 well." 
 
 Marcelle mused for a moment, then said: 
 
 " And you did right to humour her, Tite, though I 
 perceive not the meaning of it. One would have ex- 
 pected him to take any other course than coming here 
 after his last experience. However, let them be brought 
 hither." 
 
 With that, Tite vanished again into the forest, but 
 his step, now that he was relieved of care, was heavy 
 with the fatigue of his long journey. Marcelle stood a
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 moment looking after him ; then, slipping into the cabin, 
 threw a string of black beads about her neck and pushed 
 her disordered hair back from her brow why, she could 
 scarcely have told. The next moment she was again out- 
 side, awaiting their coming, and, as she so stood, Crepin 
 approached her, his mean features betraying much ex- 
 citement. 
 
 " Yonder at the bottom of the gorge Tite and 
 Poncet and the rest, and with them a woman and one 
 other, Marcelle ! " he gasped. " From the fork of the 
 great dead oak I saw them as they came up the valley." 
 
 Marcelle nodded. 
 
 " I knew," she said coolly, whereat Crepin's face fell 
 at the knowledge that he was anticipated. 
 
 " You know ? Then 'twas you who " 
 
 " I know, because I have seen Tite," she said sharply. 
 " As for you, Crepin, I thank you for having your eyes 
 open, but this is my affair; take heed lest you meddle 
 with it." 
 
 " Your affair, is it ? " he growled. " And what is 
 your affair is ours is mine, methinks. If I know aught 
 of dress, these two will have well-filled purses ; but who 
 are they, since you have so managed your affair ? " 
 
 There was a distinct sneer in his tone that caused her 
 to turn on him suddenly. 
 
 " Crepin Brune, since we have all been together, ne'er 
 have I had aught apart from the rest, ne'er have I taken 
 share for share with you of what we have laid hands on ; 
 but this is different, and for this once I will have free 
 hand alone. You are too much given of late to inter- 
 ference, and for it you already have felt the lash. Op- 
 pose me further and I swear to you I'll have you fairly 
 flayed alive; that is my answer, and bear you it well in 
 mind." 
 
 116
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 " Then we're to have naught from these two ? " he 
 asked sullenly, his face lowering with the passion he 
 dared not give vent to. 
 
 " We shall see," she answered ; " perhaps naught, 
 perhaps much, but never more nor less than I say. This, 
 I repeat to you, shall be my affair and mine alone." 
 
 Crepin made no reply, but shrugged his shoulders in 
 sulky fashion, and even as he did so Tite and his party 
 emerged from the trees and came toward them. 
 
 The Lady Agathe had forsaken the litter for the 
 climb up the hillside, and had drawn her kirtle close 
 about her doe-skin riding-boots as she came through the 
 wet grass. Her face bore witness to the great fatigue 
 she felt, yet she carried her head proudly erect and 
 seemed to seek whither she was being led. Monsieur 
 Vignolles followed close in her footsteps, his great boots 
 heavy with mud and his furred mantle thrown carelessly 
 over one arm. His expression would equally have be- 
 fitted a man returning from the hunt and one marching 
 to the gallows, yet his eye, beneath this apparent mask, 
 sought what might lie ahead, precisely as did the Lady 
 Agathe's. 
 
 Marcelle made no move as they came toward her. 
 To say the truth, she felt as though turned to the wood 
 of the forest about her, yet she trembled slightly as she 
 noted the grace of the Lady Agathe's carriage and saw 
 the proud beauty of those blue eyes under the golden 
 sheen of her hair, which now fell in some disorder from 
 her head-dress. She saw, as well, the soaked garments 
 that clung heavily about the Lady Agathe's figure, and 
 was one moment overjoyed at seeing her discomfort, the 
 next impelled to sympathy. But not for the world would 
 she have advanced to meet this woman this other ! No ; 
 the Lady Agathe should be made to feel that here, in 
 
 117
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 these Ardennes, she was of less consequence than the 
 least of them all. She should beg, humbly beg, such 
 favours as she desired from her, Marcelle. Then, per- 
 chance, would she deign to grant her requests. 
 
 Thus came these two women face to face; the one, 
 tall, slender, and fair as the very sunbeams themselves, 
 which, now the storm had ended, threw their departing 
 and straggling rays into this green arbour; the other, 
 so slight as to suggest frailty, and dark as the shadows 
 of the densest thicket near at hand. Nor did either of 
 them speak for some space, being occupied with mutual 
 regard. The Lady Agathe marvelled at coming upon 
 such a beautiful creature in the midst of such surround- 
 ings, and Marcelle, as she looked upon the other, felt 
 her heart sink. Surely no man, once loving her, could 
 be aught than constant. 
 
 It was the Lady Agathe who first roused herself and 
 spoke. Alas for her, and for the manner she saw fit to 
 adopt ! 
 
 " You, then, are that woman of the hills, Marcelle the 
 Mad, of whom I have heard so much ? " 
 
 " I am Marcelle the Mad," answered Marcelle coldly, 
 and, motioning the others to draw back some paces, 
 turned abruptly on her heel and faced Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles. 
 
 " So we meet again, monsieur, and this time, I am 
 told, by your own choosing; a strange procedure, in 
 truth." 
 
 " My lady journeyed this way, mademoiselle," he 
 answered with a bow ; " and as, on my last visit here, I 
 remembered to have left behind, through inadvertence, 
 something of value to wit, my purse I gladly seized 
 upon the opportunity of company." 
 
 Despite her trouble, the Lady Agathe could not 
 118
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 restrain a smile of admiration at the man's coolness. 
 Now, indeed, she felt thankful that he had come with 
 her, yet fearful for the consequences to him. 
 
 " You may find it no matter for jesting, Monsieur 
 Vignolles," said Marcelle. 
 
 " Nor have I so found it, mademoiselle," he replied 
 seriously enough. " I am but a poor man, and the loss 
 has fallen heavily upon me." 
 
 " Call me no more mademoiselle ; reserve such airs 
 for those who may be pleased therewith," cried Mar- 
 celle, with a perceptible hoist of the shoulder nearest the 
 Lady Agathe. " Here, where I rule, I choose to be only 
 Marcelle; let that suffice. But methinks you wore no 
 such bold aspect when last you were here, monsieur, and 
 the empty sheath at your side would be enough to give 
 your words the lie. If e'er I saw a man in dread fear 
 at heart, you are that one." 
 
 For a moment he seemed to meditate a light rejoin- 
 der; then his glance, falling on the Lady Agathe, in 
 whose face was a real anxiety, lest he make matters 
 worse, he said simply: 
 
 " By my faith, the man who would think to hide his 
 thoughts from any woman would deserve the worst of 
 the Fates! You are right, Marcelle. If 'tis not fear 
 that causes the trembling of my hand, 'tis, at least, sus- 
 pense." 
 
 There was not the slightest tremor in the hand he 
 held toward her, but his tone was sincere, and Marcelle's 
 attention had been drawn for a moment by the chatter- 
 ing arrival of the women of the camp, who had just 
 learned of the new arrivals and driven hither pell-mell. 
 A gesture from her served to quiet them, and they 
 grouped themselves behind Tite and the others. 
 
 " Since you have decided upon the truth, I ask 
 119
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 you again, why have you come here?" said Marcelle 
 sharply. 
 
 " And in all truth I will answer, madem Marcelle," 
 he replied quickly. " For one reason, I came because 
 my lady, there, might, perchance, take some comfort in 
 my presence; for another, because to have returned to 
 Namur with my tale was not to be thought of. And 
 now, that we may save time and trouble, here is my purse 
 'tis my Lord the Constable's gold, so the spending 
 should be pleasing enough and here am I." 
 
 With that, he extended the purse to Marcelle, and 
 she, making no move to take it, he let it fall at her feet, 
 and, folding his arms, half-turned upon the others. 
 
 " You may kill a man who comes to you of his own 
 will with such gift, but methinks 'twould lack the true 
 savour of sport," he said, and then turned again to Mar- 
 celle. " But what I would know is, why you have seized 
 my lady, and what mischief you mean to her." 
 
 And now Marcelle understood that the man's fear 
 which she had detected was, in truth, not for himself, 
 but for the Lady Agathe. Something within her warmed 
 to him, and a startling thought flashed upon her. Was 
 it possible that Monsieur Vignolles might have greater 
 regard for the Lady Agathe than the Sieur Giraud had 
 led her to believe? In truth, no man would willingly 
 place his life in jeopardy for the mere whim of a woman. 
 She felt her heart leap within her at the thought. One 
 thing was certain, Monsieur Vignolles must be close- 
 kept till she knew. Perchance he would prove the very 
 weapon she needed. 
 
 What the Lady Agathe thought as Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles spoke was too confused a jumble to admit of 
 any clear understanding. Monseigneur had not erred in 
 saying they might become better acquainted on that 
 
 120
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 journey, yet she felt that she knew less of the man with 
 his every action. At one moment he betrayed a frivolous 
 lightness ; at the next, rose to a height that compelled 
 her regard. She was in a very perplexity of uncertainty, 
 and, moreover, was greatly vexed at Marcelle's complete 
 ignoring of her since she had first spoken. 
 
 Marcelle spoke to Monsieur Vignolles quickly 
 enough, for her thoughts had been fleeting. 
 
 " You are wise in changing your manner, monsieur. 
 As for the gold " she touched it with her small foot 
 " we shall, indeed, find use for that ; and, for yourself, 
 no present harm shall befall you, provided always you 
 try no tricks." 
 
 She called Tite to her side. 
 
 " Tite, you will answer to me for this man's keeping. 
 Let him never be out of the sight of two of the men, 
 and quarter him by night in your own cave firmly se- 
 cured. Away with him now, that he may become used 
 to it. That is all you have to fear at present, monsieur," 
 she added. 
 
 " But, my lady ? " cried Monsieur Vignolles, as Tite 
 beckoned him to follow. 
 
 " The Lady Agathe will fashion her own lot," she 
 answered in a low voice. " As with you, it will depend 
 upon her conduct alone. Now, go! I will speak with 
 her." 
 
 With a last look at the Lady Agathe, he followed Tite 
 and the half-dozen who joined him, and was swallowed 
 up in the deepening shadows. But, as he did so, a sigh 
 of relief escaped him, for he now was certain that the 
 Lady Agathe had been seized for ransom. Marcelle had 
 meant as much by that allusion to her fate lying in her 
 own hands. Was she prepared to pay compliantly and 
 generously, then would she soon be free. So thought 
 
 121
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles, and his heart was glad within him, 
 so that he paid little heed to the change which had come 
 over his fortunes, great though that change was. 
 
 Of the men, Crepin and several others remained to 
 see the outcome of Marcelle's talk with the Lady Agathe, 
 and the women crowded them, in their eagerness, a little 
 closer. Not often had it been given these outcasts to 
 look upon one of the Lady Agathe's station at such close 
 range, and they would make the most of their oppor- 
 tunity. Marcelle was impelled to order them back, but 
 was checked by the thought that the other might con- 
 strue such action as a favour. Therefore she turned to 
 the Lady Agathe and said shortly: 
 
 " Now that Monsieur Vignolles is disposed of, I will 
 speak with you. You are not pleased with the position 
 in which you find yourself ? " 
 
 She found a certain enjoyment in teasing this haughty 
 lady before her. 
 
 " Your question is not deserving of reply," was the 
 answer. " Since I assume that I shall be forced to re- 
 main here some time, I would, for the present, ask the 
 favour of drying myself at some fire. Then I will dis- 
 cuss terms with you, woman." 
 
 In truth, now that the sun had set, the woodland 
 breeze was chill enough, and the Lady Agathe shivered 
 in her soaked raiment. But, again, there had been that 
 unfortunate tone of patronage or condescension in her 
 voice that killed the sympathy her plight might have 
 roused. 
 
 " I dare swear you'll grow used to the rigours of our 
 life ere many days, my lady," said Marcelle. " You are 
 cold ? Bah ! How often think you have I lain down in 
 clothing wet as yours, when to make any fire meant 
 bringing the very wolves from whom you come down 
 
 122
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 upon us, ay, and slept, too, though with the chills shaking 
 the very pine branches beneath me?" 
 
 " You have chosen the life you lead, woman, and the 
 recital of its hardships has no bearing upon my own 
 case," said the Lady Agathe coldly. 
 
 " You lie in saying that, woman ! " cried Marcelle. 
 " Ay, if you may fling ' woman ' at me, as you would to 
 the lowest menial under you, so shall you have it back. 
 Here, in the hills, I am as free as you to speak my mind 
 freer, if it comes to that and you lie when you say 
 that I have chosen this life. Chosen it? Are you blind, 
 that you see not it has been forced upon me upon these 
 others here by the tyranny of such as you spring from ? 
 But no; you are not blind; you could see if you would. 
 It is that you cared not, so be it your own pampered 
 wishes were fulfilled, and a half-score vied with each 
 other to perform your slightest bidding. What cared 
 you for the rain that drives us, like so many rats, into 
 our holes, save that it clashed with some idle jaunt you 
 had planned ? What recked you of the cold that pierced 
 through the rags we wore ay, and left some gaps 
 among us that ne'er may be refilled you, with your 
 comforts and your ease, and the warmth of a fire at 
 your back? And you would speak to me as though you 
 lowered yourself in so doing; you!" 
 
 She ended with a contemptuous shrug of the shoul- 
 ders and an angry stamp of her foot. As for the Lady 
 Agathe, she was completely upset by this outburst of 
 rage, and believed that the woman was indeed mad, as 
 she chose to call herself. Therefore, she would humour 
 her by returning to the subject of her ransom. Surely, 
 even a madwoman would appreciate that. 
 
 " I know not why you should accuse me of being 
 the cause of your troubles and your life " she began. 
 9 123
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I said not that you were," interrupted Marcelle, 
 " but 'tis your cursed party that has brought us to what 
 we are, and you are none to use such tone to me, nor 
 will I stand it from you." 
 
 " So be it; but let us come to a subject we may hope 
 to agree upon. You have taken me for ransom, I sup- 
 pose ? " 
 
 Marcelle made no answer. In truth, what other 
 reason was she to give? Let the Lady Agathe think so 
 for the present, at all events. 
 
 " Then what sum will content you ? I am rich, and 
 will pay what you ask, only set me free." 
 
 Crepin, who had stolen nearer than the others, 
 pricked up his ears to catch the reply from Marcelle's 
 lips. 
 
 The question was plain enough, and called for a 
 straight answer, yet Marcelle hesitated. Not only had 
 she given this phase of the matter no thought, but she 
 felt that now, if ever, she must temporise. It was true 
 that her caprice to see this woman who held the devo- 
 tion of the Sieur Giraud had been gratified, yet she 
 would know her further; she would observe her day by 
 day, that she might learn the charm she possessed. At 
 present, save for the Lady Agathe's undeniable beauty 
 and fairness, she had seen naught that should so capti- 
 vate a man. Then, too, the unexpected coming of Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles had introduced a fresh element into her 
 perplexity. She would know how far his devotion ex- 
 tended; that she was resolved upon. There was, then, 
 no other course but to temporise. But one scruple was 
 in her mind at doing this : the fact that the Sieur Giraud 
 would believe she had used the knowledge gained from 
 him for such a base purpose as seizing the Lady Agathe 
 for gold. But better that than that he should suspect 
 
 124
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 the real cause. She raised her black eyes slowly till 
 they met the blue ones of the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " The price of your release rests not with me alone," 
 she said. " Moreover, your manner of speech has roused 
 a fancy within me a fancy to extend to you the hos- 
 pitality of the Ardennes. You have never thought of 
 the life we vagabonds of the hills lead, save with con- 
 tempt save with a shudder of loathing; but you shall 
 know for yourself the other side of the picture you 
 thought to understand. From to-night the Lady Agathe, 
 for a time, ceases to exist dress, pride, all shall be cast 
 behind you and you shall roam these hills as one of 
 us, enduring our trials, ay, and sharing our pleasures. 
 To-night you shall become one of the Companions of 
 the Green Tent; you shall wear the badge of Marcelle 
 the Mad. It is my will." 
 
 For a moment the Lady Agathe was struck dumb 
 with amazement; then her anger burst forth. 
 
 " And think you for a moment I will don the dress 
 of your murderous company of thieves, woman? Then 
 are you more mad than they say of you. Richly will I 
 reward you for freedom, but " 
 
 " You are a fool, Agathe," cut in Marcelle shortly. 
 " As you are obeyed in your own household, so rule I 
 here." 
 
 " Agathe ! " gasped that lady. 
 
 " Ay, for such you are become Agathe, plain Agathe 
 unless you would choose some other name more to your 
 liking," responded Marcelle, and, turning, called, " Petite 
 Maman and you, Bonne Fleuron, you who are skilled 
 with the needle, do you equip this woman with raiment 
 such as I myself wear. The velvet taken from the 
 bishop's man will do excellently. Let it be finished and 
 ready for wear in the morning." Again she turned to 
 
 125
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 the Lady Agathe. " There is my cabin, which now you 
 will share with me. You will find a fire, needing but a 
 dry stick or two, at the far end, Agathe." 
 
 With that, she turned on her heel and, picking up 
 the purse of Monsieur Vignolles, walked rapidly away. 
 
 " But, woman, you cannot be so mad as to refuse 
 the gold I offer you," cried the Lady Agathe. " I care 
 not what the amount be, only name it and " 
 
 But Marcelle had disappeared into the forest. With 
 a choking sob rising in her throat, despite her efforts 
 to be brave, the Lady Agathe started slowly for the por- 
 tal of the cabin. There was no rift of light through the 
 gloom of her despair. Petite Maman and the others 
 laughed harshly as they noted this, and departed to their 
 quarters to begin upon the velvet. It had been good to 
 them to see Marcelle humble this proud lady. 
 
 Of a sudden the Lady Agathe felt a touch on the 
 arm, and, turning her head, beheld Crepin standing at 
 her side. She recoiled at the leer in his eye. 
 
 " My lady spoke of gold," he said eagerly. " If she 
 is willing to pay well, she need not look to Marcelle 
 alone for release." 
 
 "You mean?" 
 
 " I would first know where my lady would go," he 
 answered. 
 
 " There is now but one refuge for me Dauphine 
 Dauphine," she said, and drew back from him. 
 
 Crepin whistled softly. 
 
 " A long journey, my lady, yet it might be done if 
 what would my lady give to reach Dauphine ? " 
 
 Despite the man's cunning look, his very words gave 
 her a thrill of hope for a moment. 
 
 " One two five hundred golden crowns," she cried ; 
 " anything to leave this accursed forest behind me." 
 
 126
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 Crepin smiled gleefully. 
 
 " For five hundred golden crowns I would see you 
 safely to hell, my lady," he said, not noting that she 
 shrank farther from him at his words, so great was the 
 fortune opening before his mind. " Ay ; I and two others 
 will take you this very night within the hour. By 
 break of day we may be leagues on our way." 
 
 " And who who are you ? " she gasped, eyeing him 
 closely. 
 
 " Crepin is the name I go by, but that matters not," 
 he replied. " Ha ! We shall see, Marcelle, whether I 
 be flayed alive. We shall see if ever again I suffer the 
 lash while the rest look on and laugh, and the Sieur 
 Giraud " 
 
 "Sieur Giraud!" 
 
 The Lady Agathe was upright enough now. 
 
 " Ay, the Sieur Giraud, curse him ! He it was who 
 first " 
 
 " And he is here ; he is in the camp ? " 
 
 Crepin paused and looked at her curiously, then said : 
 
 " He is not in camp at present, but he is here with 
 us. Ay, now I do remember that he must be known to 
 you, since he came to us from Namur; but what has 
 that to do with it? In an hour's time I will come for 
 you. All will be at supper, and we may steal away 
 unnoticed." 
 
 The Lady Agathe shook her head. 
 
 " No, I will not go with you ; but but I swear you 
 shall be rewarded if you obtain me speech with the Sieur 
 Giraud d'Orson, my man." 
 
 In an instant Crepin's joy had turned to blind rage, 
 as he saw the expected fortune vanishing into air and 
 always, always was it this Sieur Giraud who came be- 
 tween him and the execution of his will. 
 
 127
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I tell you, the Sieur Giraud can do naught for you," 
 he said fiercely. " It is I, alone, who can get you safely 
 away. What would you have him do that I, another 
 Companion, may not ? " 
 
 " The Sieur Giraud a Companion one of your com- 
 pany? I do not believe it. He is a man of honour." 
 
 Crepin sneered almost in her face. 
 
 " Of so much honour that, to save his life, he took 
 the Oath that binds him to us during our pleasure," he 
 said mockingly. " Come, my lady, be sensible. I offer 
 you freedom. I confess openly 'tis for the gold you 
 will give in return. Would you trust the Sieur 
 Giraud, who sells his very self, farther than you would 
 me?" 
 
 " Farther ? " cried the Lady Agathe. " Farther ? Why, 
 man, now that I've heard you speak, I wouldn't trust you 
 at all. No; rather would I place my faith in Marcelle 
 herself, for there is knavery writ large in every line of 
 your face. As for the Sieur Giraud, I believe no word 
 of what you have said against him. And now take 
 yourself off ere I summon Marcelle or some one who 
 will know how to deal with such a traitor as you are." 
 
 The man's face was livid with rage. 
 
 " Fine words, my lady," he cried. " So you believe 
 no word against the Sieur Giraud? How chances it, 
 then, that he is even now out in the hills fighting another 
 band of these Companions you so despise? I tell you, 
 the man has become, not only a Companion, but a 
 very chief of our band as great a one as Tite him- 
 self." 
 
 "Go!" 
 
 " I'll go when I have ended," he hissed, blind with 
 the fury within him. " The Sieur Giraud, a man of 
 honour, forsooth! Do men of honour conspire against 
 
 128
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 the lives of those they have served and those who have 
 befriended them? Listen, then, that you may know. 
 On the morrow Count Charles de Charolais comes 
 forth with some of the army from Namur. This Sieur 
 Giraud, of whose honour you prate, by a note giving 
 false information, has lured him to a spot where he will 
 meet his death." 
 
 " Murder ! " gasped the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " So they will call it, these Burgundians," said Cre- 
 pin, with an ugly laugh. " So much for the honour of 
 your Sieur Giraud d'Orson, my lady." 
 
 " And not enough by a whole book, since it rests on 
 the word of such a cur ! " she cried. 
 
 From below in the valley arose the hoot of an owl. 
 Crepin started. 
 
 "Ah, 'tis Poncet's call, if I know aught of Poncet, 
 and he went with the Sieur Giraud ! " he cried. " The 
 truth of what I say need not rest upon the word of a 
 cur, then, for yonder returns the Sieur Giraud and 
 his men. Come, my lady; you shall see with your own 
 eyes." 
 
 Rapidly he led the way through the trees, and, trem- 
 bling and dazed, she followed him, for there was some- 
 thing in her heart that compelled her to refute his word, 
 if she might. In a moment they came out upon a ledge 
 overlooking the valley. 
 
 " There, there ; do you see ? " cried Crepin, crouching 
 low and stretching forth his finger. " By my faith, he 
 has done his work well, for there is Andre, and look at 
 those others ! " 
 
 The last the Lady Agathe understood not ; but what 
 she saw in the gathering twilight was the figure of the 
 Sieur Giraud coming straight up the slope toward her. 
 Despite his strange dress, there could be no mistake, and 
 
 129
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 she even caught his voice as he called some direction to 
 the others. Behind him toiled a motley gathering, a half- 
 score bound together, and evidently prisoners. Some of 
 the others wore rough bandages, as though they had 
 suffered wounds. Crepin drew her back forcibly as they 
 drew near, and the two retreated together. 
 
 " Now do you believe, my lady ? " he whispered. 
 
 And she did not answer. 
 
 A moment more and they reached Marcelle's cabin. 
 She fled within the portal as the tramp of feet warned 
 her that the Sieur Giraud and the others were coming 
 straight that way, doubtless to report to Marcelle. 
 
 Outside the leafy entrance Crepin waited, and to the 
 ears of the Lady Agathe came the voice of the Sieur 
 Giraud with only the wood between. 
 
 " Ah, Crepin ; you see, we have scraped together a 
 fair bag, including Andre. Is Marcelle within ? " 
 
 " No, she has gone on to the open camp some time 
 ago," Crepin replied, and then added, in a lower tone, 
 but still so that the Lady Agathe could hear every word : 
 " I found a trusty messenger for your letter, Sieur 
 Giraud. By now, I'll be sworn, it is in the hands of 
 Count Charles." 
 
 " But will he give me the chance to come near him ? " 
 replied the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " I believe it, he has spoken so often of you of late. 
 Methinks you are the only one who could approach him 
 in that way. Ay, I believe you'll have the chance you 
 look for." 
 
 " Then, thank God the morrow will see the end of 
 this ! " had cried the Sieur Giraud, and, with that, had 
 passed on toward the camp with his men. 
 
 As their 'footsteps died away, Crepin called her softly, 
 and the Lady Agathe came to the portal. 
 
 130
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 " Now, do you believe, my lady, and will you give me 
 the task of setting you free, or do you still cleave to your 
 man of honour ? " 
 
 And, after a moment, she had made answer: 
 
 " I will not go with you, no ; a thousand times, no ! 
 Yet my senses teach me that for once you have foiled 
 Nature by speaking the truth." 
 
 He uttered a curse and seemed about to add more, 
 then suddenly slipped away into the growing darkness. 
 The next moment she saw the reason of his flight, as 
 Marcelle pushed aside the hanging leaves and entered. 
 The Lady Agathe said no word, but threw herself upon 
 the bed of pine in the corner, while Marcelle threw some 
 wood on the fire and stood in its blaze. 
 
 " In truth, this was a very hell into which she had 
 fallen," the Lady Agathe thought, for she made no doubt 
 that this creature Marcelle was in this murderous plot 
 against Count Charles with the rest. And the Sieur 
 Giraud ! It seemed that her heart must burst within her 
 at the thought. 
 
 Of a sudden there was a quick step without, and the 
 voice of Poncet came through to them: 
 
 " The Sieur Giraud would see the Lady Agathe at 
 the earliest moment." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud himself never had come near the 
 quarters of the women. 
 
 Marcelle trembled. At last it had come, this meeting 
 she had dreaded. 
 
 The Lady Agathe raised her head weakly, but her 
 voice rang steady and clear. 
 
 " The Lady Agathe has no wish to see the Sieur 
 Giraud d'Orson," she said, and listened for a moment 
 till she heard the man's steps retreating. Then she fell 
 back upon the branches.
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Marcelle was at her side with one bound. 
 
 "You have no wish to see the Sieur Giraud you!" 
 she cried, and seized the Lady Agathe's hand almost 
 fiercely ; but it was cold to her touch. 
 
 The Lady Agathe had swooned. 
 
 132
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE STILL, SMALL VOICE 
 
 AND now, of a sudden, a great flood of compas- 
 sion swelled high in the heart of Marcelle, 
 sweeping before it all other feeling she had 
 toward the Lady Agathe. The very sympathy 
 which had been killed in its birth, by reason of her 
 haughtiness, again sprang into life as Marcelle knelt 
 beside her cold and senseless form. 
 
 With a sharp cry, she half carried, half dragged the 
 Lady Agathe near to the fire, which now blazed strongly, 
 sending its flying sparks and curling wisps of smoke up- 
 ward toward the hole in the thatched roof. And now, 
 with the swiftness and aptitude born of her many days 
 of self-reliance, she deftly removed the clinging, sodden 
 bodice, kirtle and under-dress, and, with a coarse cloth, 
 briskly rubbed the soft white skin, turning the Lady 
 Agathe so that the heat of the fire might aid her 
 efforts. 
 
 At length she was rewarded by a sigh and a con- 
 vulsive movement of the hand, that told of returning 
 consciousness, and she saw that the Lady Agathe's eyes 
 had opened and that she was regarding her weakly. But 
 Marcelle gave voice to no maudlin expressions of thank- 
 fulness, as many women would have done. Instead, she 
 took from its wooden peg a long, loose robe of wool 
 her own sleeping dress and enveloped the Lady Agathe 
 in its warm folds. Then she stepped to the door and, 
 thrusting her head forth, gave a peculiar low cry. In 
 
 133
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 a moment's time the woman Bonne Fleuron, running in 
 answer from the near-by cabin of the other women, 
 stood before her, and to her she gave some hurried 
 directions, so that she left as suddenly as she had 
 come. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Lady Agathe had been slowly re- 
 covering her lost senses. She lay quite still in her snug 
 wrapping, content oh, so content! to feel the return- 
 ing glow that was spreading over her ; but her eyes were 
 upon Marcelle, and on her face was a look of much be- 
 wilderment. To her ears was borne upon the night air 
 the hum of voices and an occasional shout or burst of 
 laughter from the camp. Above the leafy rustle over- 
 head, she heard the raucous cry of a night-hawk as he 
 sought his prey, and the solemn lay of the tree-toads as 
 they welcomed the onset of darkness; yet these sounds 
 she scarce noticed. The night stillness of the great forest 
 had cast its spell upon her, and one great and universal 
 hush seemed to pervade all the world. For a moment 
 she found herself wondering if it were possible that at 
 court they were even now at supper, under the glare of 
 a hundred candles, and merry with the clash of plate and 
 the chatter of many voices. 
 
 As she lay musing upon this, Bonne Fleuron returned 
 and handed Marcelle two basins of stewed meat, from 
 which the steam rose slowly. Marcelle dismissed her 
 with a word of thanks, and came quickly to the Lady 
 Agathe. 
 
 " Eat, Agathe ! " she said shortly, and proffered her 
 one of the basins. " The hot flesh of the roebuck is good 
 for such ailments as yours ; eat ! " 
 
 And the Lady Agathe took it from her with no more 
 thought of resenting such use of her name, though, in 
 truth, it still rankled within her. 
 
 134
 
 THE STILL, SMALL VOICE 
 
 " I thank you, Marcelle," she said simply, and fell 
 to sipping the broth, while Marcelle seated herself op- 
 posite her and did likewise. 
 
 And, indeed, the steaming mixture did much to put 
 new life into the Lady Agathe's veins, for the health 
 was strong upon her, and with health goes hunger. She 
 paused not till she had made an end of the contents of 
 the basin and of the coarse bread which had served for 
 cover. 
 
 As for Marcelle, she ate more slowly, with her gaze 
 upon the fire and seemingly lost in thought, but at last 
 she, too, set down the empty basin and, raising her head, 
 regarded the other with a searching look. 
 
 " Why would you not see the Sieur Giraud, Agathe ? " 
 she asked of a sudden. 
 
 The Lady Agathe drew her robe closer about her and 
 shuddered. Yet she hesitated a moment before replying 
 and in that moment she came to the conclusion that to 
 tell Marcelle of her discovery would, in truth, be mad- 
 ness. Did Marcelle suspect her of knowing aught of 
 this plot against Count Charles, she trembled at the 
 thought of what the woman might do. Yet there was 
 one reason she might give in reply which would appear 
 consistent with her former attitude. 
 
 " That the Sieur Giraud should have sunk to what 
 he has become a common outlaw is sufficient answer 
 to your question," she said quietly. 
 
 " And how know you what he has become ? " asked 
 Marcelle, " or, even admitting that it be true, what 
 know you of the reasons of his fall, as you term it ? Ha ! 
 A strange notion of loyalty you possess, Agathe, since 
 whate'er the man has come to, it has been because of 
 you." 
 
 A moment before Marcelle would have laughed at the 
 135
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 thought that she should upbraid the Lady Agathe in this 
 fashion, and it was, in truth, a strange move in the game 
 she played so to recall this other to her duty. Yet she 
 found herself taking a very great measure of pleasure 
 in thus taunting her. 
 
 " I spoke not idly ; nor would I accuse any man with- 
 out proof of my words," said the Lady Agathe. " That 
 the Sieur Giraud numbers himself among your company, 
 I make no 'doubt, since within the hour I saw him re- 
 turning from some expedition at the head of a band of 
 Companions. God knows, I need not your reproaches to 
 remind me that it was through me he came to his ruin 
 with Count Charles, yet I see not how you should be so 
 informed, unless " 
 
 " Unless the Sieur Giraud himself so made it known," 
 interrupted Marcelle. " Your memory is but short-lived ; 
 you forget the letter which, destined for you, fell under 
 my eyes first, Agathe. The Sieur Giraud, in the despair 
 of his disgrace, did tell me that a woman was concerned 
 therein. The inference was clear, was it not ? " 
 
 " You read that letter, Marcelle ? Then you you 
 know?" 
 
 " Yes, I know, Agathe," answered Marcelle simply, 
 and for some moments the two sat silent. Then Mar- 
 celle spoke again very quietly. 
 
 " You loved the Sieur Giraud, Agathe ? " 
 
 On the Lady Agathe's face was another shadow be- 
 sides those thrown by the flaring fire-light, and her an- 
 swer was slow in coming. 
 
 " I do not know. Why I should so speak of this with 
 you, Marcelle, I know not, save that he is here and one 
 of you. One thing I may swear, that ne'er did I esteem 
 man more highly than I did the Sieur Giraud d'Orson, 
 nor more greatly prize any man's attachment, and now 
 
 136
 
 THE STILL SMALL VOICE 
 
 that he has come to this, I feel that the very heart has 
 been torn from me. Yet I may not be sure that this was 
 love." 
 
 Marcelle looked at her with wide-opened eyes in 
 which blazed a fierce light of resentment. 
 
 " And so, uncertain of your very self, uncertain 
 whether the blind devotion of the Sieur Giraud ever 
 should have its reward from you, you still could demand 
 a service of him which might mean, and has resulted, 
 in his ruin ? Oh, you need not look surprise at me ! I 
 know the tale well enough ay, the Sieur Giraud has 
 told me, if it comes to that. Why should he not? All 
 was at an end and there is relief in the mere telling of 
 such torment as he suffered. Bah! You have done a 
 thing that makes me hate you, Agathe, for even I, Mar- 
 celle the Mad, Marcelle, the scorned outcast, would accept 
 no such homage from a man if I might not freely give 
 myself up to him body and soul." 
 
 The Lady Agathe looked at her curiously, but Mar- 
 celle seemed to have forgotten her as she spoke the last 
 word, and her eyes glowed even as the charring wood 
 before her. 
 
 " Ay, I would pay O God, how I would pay ! " the 
 Lady Agathe heard her mutter passionately and saw her 
 small hands clench sharply. 
 
 The Lady Agathe was unused to such outbursts ; she 
 found herself understanding less and less of this strange 
 creature, who one moment ministered to her comforts 
 with all gentleness, the next became a perfect virago. 
 It was not madness from which this girl suffered ; of that 
 she was now convinced, and she could but attribute such 
 capriciousness to the wild and turbulent existence she 
 led. Of what use, then, would be any attempt at argu- 
 ment with her, even did she not deem it beneath her to
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 take any notice of the lesson Marcelle had so presumptu- 
 ously read her? 
 
 As this passed through the Lady Agathe's mind, Mar- 
 celle rose and set about arranging the pine branches in 
 two heaps, one on either side of the fire. On these she 
 spread some rough blankets which she selected from a 
 pile in the corner, and then threw another armful of wood 
 upon the fire. All this she did mechanically and with 
 never a thought of the service she was so rendering the 
 other, for her mind was teeming with many new fancies. 
 When she had made an end of her task, she turned to 
 the Lady Agathe and, pointing to one of the rude beds, 
 said shortly: 
 
 " You will be tired after the day's travel ; it is best 
 that you take some rest now." 
 
 With the obedience of a child, the Lady Agathe 
 moved to the bed and crept beneath the blankets, and a 
 moment later saw Marcelle roll herself in her own and 
 settle into quiet. Then the Lady Agathe spoke of a 
 sudden. 
 
 " You would sleep in your dress, Marcelle ? I have 
 taken " 
 
 The voice of Marcelle came almost petulantly from 
 beneath the coverings. 
 
 " It is nothing ; nor is it the first time I have done so. 
 You may not wear your own dress ; therefore have done 
 with talk and seek such sleep as you may." 
 
 No more said the Lady Agathe ; but turned her face 
 from the fire and closed her eyes. In truth, she was 
 worn with fatigue, yet it was that fatigue which per- 
 vades all the body with an aching dulness and renders 
 sleep, which would be so welcome, impossible. Any 
 position she adopted seemed attended with the same dis- 
 comfort, for the bed, while soft and yielding to her body, 
 
 138
 
 THE STILL SMALL VOICE 
 
 kept her awake by its very strangeness. Nor is it proba- 
 ble that even had she suffered no physical torment she 
 would have found repose coming easily to her that night, 
 in the flood of uncertainty and fear that possessed her 
 mind. She had indeed escaped the fate that had seemed 
 so near; no longer need she dread that marriage with 
 Monsieur Vignolles, yet she found herself asking if she 
 had not, indeed, fallen from bad to worse plight. That 
 she should even ask the question of herself; that any 
 predicament should not be preferable to what she had 
 escaped was a matter for wonderment to her; but she 
 confessed that it was so. Was it because Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles had chosen to face the dangers in coming to this 
 place, rather than desert her? Was it because of a vague 
 liking for this man they would have forced upon her, a 
 liking which had arisen under the most adverse condi- 
 tions and against her own will ? Or was it that the terror 
 she felt in the presence of this wretched company out- 
 weighed all other considerations with her? She knew 
 not. 
 
 And then the Sieur Giraud, the one on whom she 
 would have sworn she might depend, even to his very 
 life to find him sunk to his present level, a Companion 
 of the Green Tent, and with foul murder in his heart ! 
 
 What was to be the outcome of it all ? To what end 
 did this Marcelle the Mad refuse to set a price on her 
 deliverance ? 
 
 So the minutes lengthened into hours and still she 
 tossed restlessly from side to side, ever thinking, think- 
 ing with eyes that would fly open to strain into the gloom 
 overhead, as though they would find the solution there. 
 
 The fire died to a mass of dull-glowing ashes and 
 with it seemed to expire the last remnant of the forti- 
 tude she so had striven to maintain. She turned face 
 10 139
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 downward and the tears came in one great despairing 
 rush that shook her very frame with an agonised relief. 
 
 " Don't don't do that ! " 
 
 The Lady Agathe turned suddenly to see that Mar- 
 celle was sitting upright and pointing a peremptory 
 finger at her. 
 
 " Don't do that ! " she repeated, reaching over and 
 throwing more wood upon the fire. " Why should you 
 weep ? There's no excuse for it. I won't have it, do you 
 hear ? I won't have it ! " 
 
 She spoke disjointedly and in a pettish tone, and with 
 the returning flicker of the flames the Lady Agathe saw 
 that her eyes, too, were wide open and bore no traces of 
 sudden awakening. 
 
 " You you have not been asleep, Marcelle ? " she 
 said. 
 
 "Asleep?" 
 
 Marcelle gave a harsh little laugh. 
 
 " I asleep, with the torture my mind gives me ? No ; 
 since you have asked it, not for a moment have my eyes 
 closed; not a motion of yours, as you tossed about, 
 escaped me, for I, too, have thoughts perchance as tor- 
 turing as your own, Agathe. But I do not give way to 
 weeping, nor shall you. I cannot bear it." 
 
 " I meant not to disturb you, Marcelle ; and, indeed, I 
 believed that I wept not aloud. But as soon bid the 
 wind cease its sighing through the trees without, as think 
 to bridle the heart-ache within me at your will. If in my 
 misery I have disturbed you, remember I am not here 
 by my own desire, but by yours. As to the thoughts 
 which have kept sleep from you, I know naught, but 
 compare not your suffering to mine nor your condition 
 to my own lonely plight." 
 
 " And do you think that you alone may feel this loneH- 
 140
 
 THE STILL SMALL VOICE 
 
 ness ? " asked Marcelle quickly. " You are and so you 
 shall be while it pleases me one of us, a Companion of 
 the Green Tent ; but when that is ended you shall be free 
 to go unmolested, for so I have decided. You feel the 
 loneliness of your position, but what think you I feel, I, 
 who must live on day by day knowing that no such relief 
 awaits me ? " 
 
 " I do not understand you, Marcelle ; you are not 
 forced to live in these hills as you do." 
 
 " No ; you do not understand me, or you would not 
 say that. What manner of heart think you I have if you 
 mean that I might desert these people with whom I have 
 cast my lot ? " 
 
 " The very name your company has adopted be- 
 tokens a fellowship," said the Lady Agathe. " More- 
 over, as I know, there are other women here." 
 
 " Yes ; there are other women here ; but in God's 
 name, what think you I have in common with them, save 
 the hatred we all bear your people and most of all the 
 Count de Charolais? And so it is with all of them. I 
 help them with such projects as they may have in mind ; 
 I try to hearten them when they would give over to dis- 
 couragement, and I see that fair play is had among them. 
 In return, they yield me a kind of blind obedience and 
 devotion ; there it ends. For among them I am as desti- 
 tute of companionship as though living alone in these 
 Ardennes woods." 
 
 The Lady Agathe was nonplussed. Such talk as this 
 she had not looked for, but the ring of truth was in every 
 word Marcelle had said. Despite herself and despite 
 their relative positions, the Lady Agathe felt that a 
 tenderness was arising within her for this strange girl. 
 
 " And it was this this sense of being alone that kept 
 sleep from you, Marcelle?" she asked. 
 
 141
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Yes ; that and I know not how many other crowding 
 thoughts besides," replied Marcelle, her great eyes fixed 
 on the other's face, and then, seeming to take a sudden 
 resolve, " Listen, you who cannot understand my loneli- 
 ness. While you moved restlessly yonder, I heard, as I 
 have said, for I, too, was fighting with myself and all 
 because of you. ' What had induced me to have you 
 brought here ; why had I quartered you here in my own 
 cabin; why were you on the morrow to become a Com- 
 panion ? ' Such were the questions I tried to solve in 
 such calm as I could force myself to assume, and in the 
 end the answer came clear and unmistakable." 
 
 The Lady Agathe raised herself upon her elbow. 
 
 " And what was it, Marcelle ? Why had you done 
 these things ? " 
 
 Marcelle buried her face in her hands. 
 
 " Because because I was dying of solitude, dying of 
 this going on for ever with never one near me to whom 
 I might talk freely. Ah, do not smile, Agathe." 
 
 " I am not smiling ; go on, Marcelle," was the quiet 
 answer. 
 
 " And because I felt that if it went on any longer, I 
 should, in truth, go mad as they call me. I I thought 
 'twas for another reason but that matters not. I know 
 now 'twas the great cry within me for companionship; 
 the yearning groping of my hand in the darkness of isola- 
 tion for the sustaining grasp of another. Night after 
 night have I lain here conscious of this great void in my 
 life and enduring tortures till sheer weariness brought 
 relief. To-night there came over me a great peace, when 
 I had come to know, to understand. Even your uneasy 
 tossing about fell with pleasant sound upon my ears, for, 
 thank God, I was no longer alone ! And then you wept, 
 and I could not bear that. O Agathe, can you not see 
 
 142
 
 THE STILL SMALL VOICE 
 
 how it is ? Now that I have had you, I cannot let you 
 go. Forget what I have said that may have been harsh 
 in tone. You shall stay here with me ; you shall be one 
 of us ; but you shall also be as myself, and your desires 
 I will place above my own, I swear it ! Only speak with 
 me, speak with me, and sometimes look upon me kindly 
 if you may, for I am starving." 
 
 Her slight figure shook with the intensity of her emo- 
 tion. As for the Lady Agathe, a strange look had come 
 into her face, and her eyes shone soft in the fire-light, 
 soft as the tender dawn of compassion may render such 
 eyes as hers. She thought not of her position now ; nor 
 of those troubles of her own which had so grievously 
 assailed her a short time before; but only of this trem- 
 bling little figure sitting bolt-upright before her, with a 
 very fever of longing in her dry eyes and mute pleading 
 in the half-opened lips. 
 
 The Lady Agathe threw back the corner of her 
 covering. 
 
 " Come, Marcelle ! " she said. 
 
 The next instant, with a cry of transport, Marcelle 
 had flown to her and was sobbing forth her very soul in 
 her arms. 
 
 And then for a long time they lay quiet and the mind 
 of the Lady Agathe was occupied indeed. Had Fate had 
 a hand in bringing her hither that she might prevent this 
 dastardly murder of Count Charles? Marcelle had said 
 that if she (the Lady Agathe) were kind she might ask 
 anything of her, and as she felt the tumultuous flutter of 
 that little heart next her own, the Lady Agathe believed 
 that she had meant it. If God had appointed her his 
 agent in thwarting this foul deed, then would the Lady 
 Agathe face any suffering herself without a murmur. 
 Not that her heart was filled with any great love for 
 
 H3
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Count Charles; but because she was a good and true 
 woman and turned from the shedding of blood with hor- 
 ror. With her, to think was to act. 
 
 Very gently she took Marcelle by the shoulders and 
 held her from her so that she might look into her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Marcelle, you promise me much in return for lit- 
 tle," she said. " For kind words, which I am not minded 
 to deny you, you offer to place my own desires above 
 your own. So be it ! I will fulfil my part of the bargain ; 
 from you I demand the abandonment of this plot against 
 the life of the Count de Charolais." 
 
 The form of Marcelle straightened suddenly in her 
 arms. 
 
 "The plot against what can you know of that?" 
 she gasped in a frightened tone. 
 
 " Enough to make me loathe the very speech of it 
 with you, Marcelle. Ah, how can you, with such a 
 heart as you have shown me, how can you plan such sin- 
 ful deed as this ? " 
 
 " I I have not planned it ! " cried Marcelle. " But 
 how have you learned of this ? " 
 
 And at that, the Lady Agathe told her of all that 
 she had discovered from Crepin, while Marcelle lay in 
 her arms and only by an occasional gasp or exclama- 
 tion indicated that she heard. As the Lady Agathe 
 ended, she drew slightly back from her. 
 
 " So Crepin would have sold me, would he ? " she 
 cried angrily. " For gold he would have taken you 
 from me. By my faith, he shall pay " 
 
 " But, Marcelle, that is not what should concern you," 
 said the Lady Agathe. "This attempt upon Count 
 Charles must be stopped. You must stop it." 
 
 " I stop it I ? " said Marcelle in a dazed voice. 
 144
 
 THE STILL, SMALL VOICE 
 
 " You know not what you ask ; nor, if it comes to that, 
 would I interfere if I could." 
 
 The Lady Agathe looked the horror she felt into 
 Marcelle's eyes. 
 
 " You would not interfere you would stoop to mur- 
 der in your hatred of any man? I cannot believe it, 
 Marcelle." 
 
 " Murder ! 'Tis a term that lends itself to easy mean- 
 ing. When Count Charles rides down a half-score such 
 wretches as we are, and hangs them to the very trees be- 
 neath which they have lived, 'tis just punishment upon 
 the rebellious outlaws; but if the chance falls the other 
 way ah, then 'tis murder! The Companions of the 
 Green Tent are, to them, as fair game as the wild boar 
 of the forest. Be it so! If the boar turns when hard 
 pressed, they need not be surprised." 
 
 " But this blow you speak for is no fair one, de- 
 livered in self-defence," cried the Lady Agathe. " You 
 would lure a man to his death with fair but lying 
 promises." 
 
 " With the method I have had naught to do, as I 
 have told you," answered Marcelle. " But forget not one 
 thing, Agathe. Against us, ere long, will come that 
 trained army from Namur. We must fight back with 
 such weapons as we have." 
 
 " Weapons ! Say rather fraud and assassination. O 
 God! How is it that one like the Sieur Giraud could 
 ever be the implement for such crime? What hellish 
 spell have you cast over him ? " 
 
 " The Sieur Giraud " 
 
 Marcelle checked herself suddenly. She had been on 
 the point of assuring the Lady Agathe that he was but a 
 cat's-paw in the game Crepin played; but it flashed 
 through her mind that to do so would bring them to- 
 
 H5
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 gether at the first opportunity. The Lady Agathe would 
 inform him of the use that had been made of him and 
 never would he rest till he had killed Crepin. This might 
 not be, for Crepin must live to perform his task. 
 
 The Lady Agathe noted not Marcelle's sudden hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 " Ay ; the Sieur Giraud, one whom a fortnight ago 
 methought the most upright man I had ever known 
 now become the lowest thing on earth, a common cut- 
 throat. But, Marcelle, let us not waste a moment in idle 
 talk. Oh, I beg of you let not Crepin go upon this 
 errand! You are leader here; what you say they will 
 obey. Have him seized; have the Sieur Giraud seized, 
 and both held till the morrow be over." 
 
 " Agathe, you do not understand," said Marcelle. " I 
 would that you had asked me something I might per- 
 form ; but this may not be. I believe that few are in the 
 plot now; I believe that Crepin will keep it so, if pos- 
 sible, that he may have the greater reward and glory ; 
 but if I should try to oppose him, he would turn upon me. 
 He would inform the rest of what I tried to prevent, I, 
 Marcelle, their leader, and the greatest hater of this 
 Count Charles among them all. And what think you 
 would be the end ? They would tear me limb from limb, 
 free Crepin and any other I might have seized, and the 
 plot would go on as before. No; it may not be! Nor, 
 as I have said, would I raise one finger to save Count 
 Charles's life. I have suffered too much at his hands and 
 the world will be the better for his riddance." 
 
 A moment the Lady Agathe held silent. Then she 
 pushed Marcelle from her and said coldly: 
 
 " I have but one other request. Will you tell me the 
 spot where this crime is to take place ? " 
 
 " Why would you know ? " 
 146
 
 THE STILL. SMALL VOICE 
 
 The Lady Agathe fixed Marcelle with a look before 
 which she quailed. 
 
 " Because I am a woman in whom remains some con- 
 science ; because I know that if I sat idle while this mur- 
 der was being done, there is a God above who would 
 judge me as pitilessly as he would the very murderer 
 himself. Think you I could for the rest of my life bear 
 up under such burden? Think you that by day I could 
 have any other thoughts save that I had slain a fellow- 
 creature, one of God's own creation? Think you that 
 by night I ever might have repose with this one's last 
 cry of agony ringing in my ears and the very feel of 
 his blood upon my hands as I started from my sleep ? " 
 
 " O God, speak not so, Agathe ! " shuddered Mar- 
 celle. 
 
 " Call not upon the God you so would set at defi- 
 ance," said the Lady Agathe, " for it is but a mockery. 
 You ask why I would know the place selected for this 
 deed. I tell you it is because rather than meet my Maker 
 with this on my soul, I, knowing little of this forest as 
 I do, would strive to make my way thither to give warn- 
 ing in time." 
 
 " It might mean your death," said Marcelle in trem- 
 bling voice. 
 
 " And if it did if the very blow meant for the other 
 should stretch me low, yet would I be repaid, for to be 
 resigned to death is all that may render it painless. Mar- 
 celle, if this murder occurs, you will have gratified a 
 great earthly revenge, but your remaining life will be a 
 hell, and at last, you will come before God with a terri- 
 ble reckoning to pay. O Marcelle, I beseech you, think, 
 think! Are the tortures of the damned naught to 
 you?" 
 
 With a passionate outburst of tears, Marcelle flung 
 147
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 herself into the Lady Agathe's arms and they closed 
 about her soothingly. 
 
 " I I will prevent this ; I swear it, Agathe ! O God, 
 give me strength for it ! " Marcelle cried brokenly. 
 
 "Even if it does mean your life, Marcelle?" said 
 the Lady Agathe gently. 
 
 " It will mean my life," sobbed Marcelle, " but I 
 I have seen a great light, a light that seems afar off, yet 
 I feel it to be very near, and I, too, shall find death 
 painless, Agathe. The Count de Charolais shall live. A 
 voice within me bids that it shall be so." 
 
 The Lady Agathe drew the trembling form close to 
 her and bending her head till the gold of her hair fell 
 in a shining aureola about the dark locks of Marcelle, 
 kissed her softly. She smiled, too, for she had won. 
 
 And so, after a time, sleep found them. 
 
 148
 
 CHAPTER X 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 WHEN the man Poncet Meux had returned 
 bearing the curt refusal of the Lady 
 Agathe to see him, the Sieur Giraud had 
 been staggered. It had not taken him many 
 moments to learn of her presence and that of Monsieur 
 Vignolles in the camp, and his first feeling had been one 
 of intense wrath that Marcelle should have taken such 
 advantage of what he had told her. This had, however, 
 quickly yielded to one of relief that the Lady Agathe 
 had escaped the fate that awaited her at Bruges. He 
 had scarcely paused to consider what reason had im- 
 pelled Marcelle so to waylay her. That the Lady Agathe 
 was there in their very midst had outweighed all else in 
 his mind and he had hastened with all speed to put him- 
 self in communication with her, anxious to do her such 
 service as she might require. That he should have 
 burned with impatience to be near the Lady Agathe, to 
 feel again the touch of her hand in his own and to look 
 into her eyes, was no more nor less than might have been 
 expected. 
 
 And now as he waited, Poncet brought him this 
 abrupt message. 
 
 " She she will not see me? " he stammered. " There 
 is some mistake." 
 
 " 'Tis not on my side, then," answered Poncet, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. " By St. Hubert, there was small 
 doubt in her mind by the way the words came from her ! 
 
 149
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 But pshaw, man, despair not! Ne'er was there woman 
 who practised not the shuffle of blowing hot and cold by 
 turns I, who know them, tell you this and 'tis like 
 enough that in the morning you'll be taking to cover to 
 keep her from laying hands on you. Faith, 'twas but two 
 nights ago that Bonne Fleuron " 
 
 But the Sieur Giraud tarried not to hear, and turning 
 on his heel, strode rapidly away. Poncet remained a 
 moment looking after him; then shook his head. 
 
 " There's no understanding this Sieur Giraud," he 
 muttered. " Any man should be content with what he's 
 done this day, yet the whim of a woman serves to throw 
 him into a fit." 
 
 He turned and moved off toward the camp, his steps 
 keeping time to the rollicking song that he hummed: 
 
 The Devil he ruled with never a care; 
 
 And happy was he and well; 
 
 Till the day in his life, 
 
 When he took him a wife; 
 
 Then the Devil moved out of Hell. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Sieur Giraud made his way rapidly 
 to Tite's particular retreat in the near-by hillside. Since 
 he was denied seeing the Lady Agathe, he would learn 
 what he might from Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 The latter was seated before the entrance to the cave, 
 devouring with much gusto the food which had just been 
 handed him. On his right, at some little distance, sat 
 Tite and another of the Companions, and while they were 
 similarly engaged they ever kept a wary eye upon their 
 charge, and their bows lay ready to hand. In truth, Tite 
 had little fear that the man would make any attempt at 
 escape, since he had come there of his own will, yet he 
 took no chances. 
 
 150
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 So intent was Monsieur Vignolles upon the savoury 
 work before him that the Sieur Giraud came to a halt 
 almost at his side without his noting his presence. 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles ! " 
 
 The metal basin clattered sharply on the stones and 
 went rolling noisily down the hill, while Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles sprang to his feet. 
 
 " The devil ! The very voice of the Sieur Giraud 
 d'Orson ! " he cried sharply, and then peering closely into 
 the other's face, added : 
 
 " Ay, by my faith, 'tis you indeed, Sieur Giraud, yet 
 in the darkness I'd have passed you by but not without 
 an eye behind lest I receive a foot of shaft in the back. 
 My compliments to you. Your new dress lends a fierce- 
 ness to your aspect that would secure you all of any road 
 that honest men travel. And in your cap yes; I'll be 
 sworn, the badge of a Companion ! So this is what you 
 have come to ? " 
 
 " This is what I have come to," answered the Sieur 
 Giraud quietly ; " but I come not here to speak of my- 
 self, monsieur; I would know how it chances that the 
 Lady Agathe and you should find yourselves in these 
 hills." 
 
 " Then you know not ? By the garb you wear you 
 should have little to learn of me, since 'twas the doing of 
 this very band." 
 
 " Yet had I no hand in it, if you would mean that, 
 monsieur," replied the Sieur Giraud. " Nor will it be 
 best for you to put such thought into words again. I 
 ask you once more how this has happened." 
 
 The other seemed to shake off his doubt. 
 
 " What you say rings true enough," he said, " nor 
 is there aught to conceal, yet you might have the tale 
 Straighter from that old fox yonder, who calls himself
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Tite. Two leagues along the Bruges road storm halts 
 us horses stampeded by shot from roadside and with 
 them the witlings who had them in charge short fight, 
 all one-sided the devil's own jaunt through the forest 
 and here we are. Simple enough, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yet how why chanced it that you were with the 
 Lady Agathe ? " asked the Sieur Giraud as Tite ap- 
 proached them. 
 
 " I beg you believe 'twas not by my own choice. 
 'Twas my Lord the Constable's suggestion, and Mon- 
 seigneur and Count Charles fell in with it quick enough. 
 By my faith! I would it had been some other, who 
 might have made better play against these rogues, and 
 yet " 
 
 "And yet?" 
 
 "And yet, perchance, 'tis as well, since now I need 
 have no woman thrust upon me.'* 
 
 Tite grunted. 
 
 " Ha ! I know not what you may mean ; but me- 
 thinks 'twas you foisted yourself upon the lady, when 
 you had clear field to make off," he said, and entered the 
 cave, to return a moment later with an armful of wood 
 wherewith he proceeded to build a blaze, over which he 
 heated some drink in a basin. 
 
 "Is this true, monsieur? You came of your own 
 will ? " asked the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Faith, what will has a man who has been man- 
 handled by such knaves as these and lain under the 
 weight of six of them, while the sword was wrung from 
 his grasp?" replied Monsieur Vignolles. "Moreover, 
 what would you have had; that I should have scrubbed 
 myself clean, and gone back to Namur with empty 
 sheath and four lusty rogues at my back, and ne'er a 
 scratch upon any of us ? In truth, I love the telling of a 
 
 152
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 tale as well as the next man; but I like one with more 
 point to it." 
 
 " Yet, you may not have bettered yourself in coming," 
 growled Tite, as he started away. 
 
 " Which observation shows great thought and little 
 discernment, old Whitehead," answered Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles, " for up to the present I live ; and were I at 
 Namur, methinks they would even now be saying a mass 
 for my soul. But come, Sieur Giraud, now that you have 
 milked me dry, a word of yourself, and how it is that you 
 wear the dress of these thieves." 
 
 And with that, the Sieur Giraud briefly ran over the 
 events which had transpired since last they had parted 
 at the town gates. As he ended, Monsieur Vignolles 
 slapped his thigh and spoke quickly. 
 
 " And you have taken an oath to abide by the wishes 
 of this rabble of outlaws the will of Marcelle the 
 Mad?" 
 
 He paused a moment, and then added : 
 
 " May the devil seize me if I blame you though, since 
 'twas so close a thing with you! But what has acted 
 upon the Lady Agathe that she should turn against you ? 
 Think you 'tis only that she has learned what you have 
 become ? " 
 
 " I know not ; perchance 'tis so, for she has a sense 
 of honour above most women. But listen, Monsieur 
 Vignolles, whate'er the oath I have taken; whate'er the 
 issue to me; the Lady Agathe shall not be left to the 
 mercies of these Companions, or the whims of Mar- 
 celle. You, I take it, came here with the idea of being 
 of some aid to her if possible. So be it; we will work 
 together for her release." 
 
 " Little enough will be my part with two of your com- 
 rades ever waiting to draw bow upon me," said Mon- 
 
 153
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 sieur Vignolles, with a glance at Tite and the other. 
 " Besides, even assuming that we should get away with 
 my lady, where are we to go? You would answer to 
 Dauphine; but, in truth, men, you can scarce hope to 
 begin such journey without money, without horses, and 
 without any means of obtaining the smallest comforts 
 my lady would require." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud kicked at the gravel beneath his 
 feet. There was truth in what the other had said; so 
 much truth that his resentment was almost personal. 
 
 " We shall find a way, monsieur," he said stubbornly. 
 " I tell you the Lady Agathe must not remain here a day 
 longer than need be, for I place no trust now in Mar- 
 celle. Why has she seized my lady ? " 
 
 " What for, save for ransom ? That is clear enough," 
 answered Monsieur Vignolles shortly. 
 
 " It may be so ; yet, in truth, I doubt it. Ne'er have 
 I yet seen her take any share of the gold these thieves 
 lay hands on, and her own desires lie not that way. 
 Monsieur Vignolles, the more I see of Marcelle the less 
 do I know her. At times she is as gentle as my lady 
 herself; at others she flies into such passion that I 
 know her not for the same. Is she capable of doing my 
 lady a harm ? In truth, I know not. One moment I be- 
 lieve it; the next, scoff at the idea. But I fear, mon- 
 sieur, I fear, and would have my lady beyond her reach. 
 Give me till morning ; I shall find some plan." 
 
 " So be it," replied the other. " As for myself, I am 
 more in the dark than you are. Only this day my lady 
 spoke of you with much kindness and sorrow, methought. 
 Now she refuses you a word, refuses even to see you. 
 Is it magic or what devilish power does this Marcelle 
 possess that affects all in these hills who fall into her 
 clutches ? But no ; one so beautiful as this girl can have 
 
 154
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 naught to do with sorcery, for save for my lady herself, 
 ne'er have I seen woman who could compare with her." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud paused a moment before replying, 
 and the other felt that his eyes were searching him in- 
 tently. Then he said : 
 
 " At all events, there is naught to be done to-night, 
 monsieur. Await my return in the morning, and mean- 
 while give Tite no cause to suspect what is in your 
 mind." 
 
 With that he bowed and left Monsieur Vignolles as 
 abruptly as he had come. 
 
 To seek his own burrow in the hillside and to throw 
 himself down upon his blanket was the work of but few 
 moments. To conjure up some feasible plan for my 
 lady's escape was a matter of hours, but at last he 
 seemed satisfied and slept, yet the first gray light in the 
 east found him astir. 
 
 He had come to depend on himself alone, had the 
 Sieur Giraud, erstwhile captain of lance with camp-fol- 
 lowers and lackeys at his beck and call. There was 
 therefore naught surprising in the way he took his cut 
 from the loin of a hanging deer carcass, nor in the 
 readiness with which he cooked it over the fire. He had 
 ended his repast when the sun shot its first rays slant- 
 ingly through the trees and the others were just strag- 
 gling with sleepy yawns into the light of the new day. 
 Their salutations he scarce noted as he set forth toward 
 the quarters of Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 As he picked his way among the trees, he came, of a 
 sudden, face to face with Marcelle. She, too, it seemed, 
 was abroad early this day. An instant they stood con- 
 fronting each other, then, as though to prevent her 
 escaping^ him, he sprang forward with a hoarse cry and 
 seized her by the arm. 
 
 H 155
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " So, Marcelle, you would lead me on to tell you of 
 the Lady Agathe but that you might turn it to some 
 wretched scheme of your own ! " he said. 
 
 " You are hurting me," she answered, her gaze fall- 
 ing before his. " Oh, you need have no fear ; I shall not 
 run from you, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 Indeed, in his anger he had seized her roughly 
 enough, and at her tone he released her quickly. 
 
 " I meant not to hurt you, Marcelle," he said, 
 " though I know not why I should have such feeling for 
 you. The Lady Agathe she is well ? " 
 
 " She sleeps still. Ay, she is well." 
 
 " And for what purpose have you brought her here ? " 
 
 A far-away look was in her eyes, and for a moment 
 she smiled, and this still further angered him, for he 
 understood not what was in her mind. 
 
 " I ask you again, for what purpose you have played 
 this base trick ? " he cried hotly. 
 
 Marcelle roused herself. She must play her part be- 
 fore him, yet she was in no mood for the playing of 
 parts that morning. 
 
 " For what purpose, think you, one of Lady Agathe's 
 station should be held by such paupers as we are? " she 
 answered slowly, for it was hard to lie thus to the man 
 she loved. 
 
 " My God ! I had not believed it of you, Marcelle," 
 he cried. " No ; in truth, I had thought to see some good 
 back of all the wild savagery within you ; even to read in 
 your eyes at times " 
 
 She stretched her hands toward him suddenly. 
 
 "What? What did you think to read there?" she 
 cried, and he marvelled at the light in her eyes, the same 
 light that he had seen there the day she had left him so 
 suddenly, swearing she hated him. Had he been less pos- 
 
 156
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 sessed with the thought of the Lady Agathe, in truth, he 
 now might have read with understanding. As it was, he 
 merely said: 
 
 " Why speak of what I now know to have been but 
 fantasy? You have abused the very confidence I gave 
 you to bring suffering upon the Lady Agathe." 
 
 Marcelle's head again fell upon her breast, and again 
 she took up her role. 
 
 " You speak strangely, Sieur Giraud, since by her 
 very seizure she was saved from a marriage she de- 
 tested. That at least was something." 
 
 " That was much, Marcelle," he answered, " but the 
 manner of its doing was cruel, and now you hold her 
 for a payment that shall reward the service. Speak not 
 of it then as a favour conferred upon her, for 'tis naught 
 but a forced bargain. Name your price and give her 
 freedom, such as she will pay for gladly." 
 
 " Ay ; in truth, it has been a forced bargain between 
 us," he heard her murmur, and again that strange smile 
 was upon her face. 
 
 " Moreover, I would know what has influenced the 
 Lady Agathe against me," he went on. " Till she came 
 here till she had seen and spoken with you she held 
 no such prejudice. What lie have you whispered in her 
 ear that so should turn her ? " 
 
 His every word stabbed her with sharp pain, yet she 
 must go on. O God, could this man only know! But 
 she might not answer him truly, even had she deemed it 
 best, for ahead of her this day waited a task that must 
 not fail, a task that she alone might do. 
 
 " You speak harsh words, Sieur Giraud ; harsher 
 than you know," she said slowly. " No lie of mine has 
 poisoned the mind of the Lady Agathe against you, that 
 I swear. As for the price of her deliverance, it is what- 
 
 157
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 ever she herself may choose to pay. I have naught to say 
 thereon, and she may go from here with no hindrance 
 from me, and at any time she so wills." 
 
 His face lighted suddenly. 
 
 " Is it possible I can have been so mistaken that you 
 have done this for for me, Marcelle ? " he cried, and 
 leaned forward to look into her eyes. " If so, then on my 
 knees will I humbly beg forgiveness for the hard words 
 I have uttered. What my lady holds against me I 
 know not, yet if you have done this thing for my sake, 
 naught have you had to do with it." 
 
 It flashed upon Marcelle with dazing suddenness, and 
 it seemed to her that he must be trying to tear the very 
 heart from within her. How could he believe that she, 
 loving him as she did, could bring this other to his side 
 to mock her own agony ? Ah, but then he knew not how 
 she loved him. Out of the kindness of her heart he 
 thought she had done it. She laughed a tense, dis- 
 cordant laugh it was and it jarred upon his ears. 
 
 " For your sake ; for your sake ? " she cried, and then 
 buried her face in her hands and leaned against the tree 
 at her side. " Oh, my God ; no no no ! Give me 
 credit only for what I have done what I shall do." 
 
 A long time he stood and watched her, uncertain how 
 to proceed, for, in truth, he understood naught of what 
 she said, and believed that a mad fit was indeed upon her. 
 
 " I do not understand you, Marcelle," he said finally. 
 " But the time has come when our ways must separate. 
 The Lady Agathe's coming has but hastened the hour 
 which I had set in my mind. You have said that she 
 should go from here without hindrance whenever she 
 wills. So be it ; she shall go this very day." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Back to Dauphine with Monsieur Vignolles, if such 
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 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 be possible, and methinks, if my plans bear fruit, I may 
 aid them. My lady will have naught to do with me now, 
 it seems. Perchance, when I am restored to favour, she 
 may again be pleased to accept my aid, and money she 
 will need if she hopes to reach Dauphine." 
 
 He spoke bitterly. 
 
 A moment she was silent and stood looking at him 
 with a great wonder in her eyes. 
 
 " You have spoken before of this renewal of your 
 favour, Sieur Giraud. You mean that if Count Charles 
 should reinstate you, you again would risk your life to 
 serve the Lady Agathe to assist in her escape ? " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " There would be no question this time of risking 
 life, Marcelle ; 'twould be the mere trouble of getting the 
 gold into Monsieur Vignolles's hands." 
 
 Again she was silent, and this time for a long while. 
 When she spoke it was in a low tone and with much 
 earnestness. 
 
 " Sieur Giraud, it shall be as you say, so far as con- 
 cerns me. You are released from your oath; Monsieur 
 Vignolles shall be set free, and the Lady Agathe may go 
 when she wills. It is strange that this day should see the 
 parting of so many of us, for I, too, am going on a 
 journey, Sieur Giraud, a longer one than any of you, 
 methinks." 
 
 "You, Marcelle!" 
 
 " Ay ; to-day will see the last of Marcelle the Mad in 
 these Ardennes woods. And, Sieur Giraud, whether you 
 gain the restoration you hope for or whether you again 
 return to wear the green badge of a Companion of 
 Marcelle you'll think sometimes of me. I beg of you 
 forget that worst side I have shown, and hold in memory 
 only my better self, the part that always has been crying 
 
 159
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 within me for outlet, yet so seldom has obtained it. 
 Adieu, Sieur Giraud ! " 
 
 " But, Marcelle, where go you ? Surely you will not 
 desert the Companions ! " 
 
 He had forgotten the Lady Agathe and felt only a 
 great desire to know what the trembling little figure be- 
 fore him meditated. Her answer came slowly, almost 
 dreamily. 
 
 " Where do I go ? Far, far away, and soon the name 
 of Marcelle the Mad will become but a threat to hold 
 over children your children, mayhap, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 " No, no ; say you not so, Marcelle ! " he cried 
 hoarsely, for there was a sadness in her voice that sank 
 deep into his heart. 
 
 " Say you not so, Marcelle," he repeated. " I know 
 not what you meditate, but surely you cannot believe 
 oh, Marcelle, I hate the very words you spoke." 
 
 She raised her eyes, and as he stood before her he 
 seemed to swim the very forest seemed to swim in 
 space. With a cry, startled, despairing, and rending her 
 very soul, she seized his hand and bore it to her lips. 
 The next moment she was gone and he knew not if 
 the " Adieu, Sieur Giraud," really had been uttered or 
 was but the soft breath of the wind through the trees 
 above. 
 
 Then he drew himself up, and bethinking himself of 
 his errand, strode slowly away. And as he walked, his 
 hand went often to his lips. 
 
 He came upon Monsieur Vignolles at the base of the 
 hillside which had harboured him over night, busily en- 
 gaged in sousing his head in the cool water that purled 
 along the centre of the stream bed. Higher up on the 
 bank Tite tugged and swore at the tangled lacings of 
 his buckskin shoes. 
 
 160
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 At the sound of the approaching footstep Monsieur 
 Vignolles raised his head quickly, and blew the water 
 from his face. 
 
 " So you are astir as well, Sieur Giraud ? " he sput- 
 tered. " By my faith, small need have you here for any 
 reveille with such as old Whitehead yonder to forestall 
 the very sun and see that you bestir yourselves! For 
 the past hour I have known no rest with his proddings 
 in the back, nor he any contentment till he had routed me 
 out. But speak, man. Your face shows that you bear 
 some news. Has the idea you sought come to you with 
 the morning ? " 
 
 " Ay, and some others as well," replied the Sieur 
 Giraud. " But what think you is the latest move of 
 Marcelle?" 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles laughed. 
 
 " Ask me why the wind should veer from north to 
 south; ask me why this water will not run uphill, yet 
 will travel to the farthermost leaves of the trees over- 
 head, and I'll find some answer. But call on no man to 
 forecast the freaks of a woman's mind, the more so if 
 such woman be Marcelle the Mad. Go on; I listen." 
 
 " Then know that she has relieved us of the half of 
 our task," said the Sieur Giraud. " You are free or 
 will be soon and so is the Lady Agathe free to go 
 wherever you will." 
 
 " The devil ! And what has brought about this 
 change of heart ? " 
 
 " I know not ; but it suffices that it should be so," 
 replied the Sieur Giraud, shaking his head thoughtfully. 
 " I come here direct from seeing Marcelle, having en- 
 countered her on the way. She seemed not herself, and 
 spoke strangely of going away upon some journey, all 
 
 of which I understood not, yet " 
 
 161
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 He paused, and seemed lost to the other's presence 
 for a moment. 
 
 " Yet what ? " asked Monsieur Vignolles, and the 
 Sieur Giraud roused with an effort. 
 
 " It is no matter, monsieur," he said quietly. " What 
 concerns us is that my lady need remain here no longer. 
 You were wrong in believing her held for gold; but 
 whatever the reason of her seizure, it is no longer potent. 
 You must go at once, you and the Lady Agathe." 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles came closer and looked earnestly 
 into the Sieur Giraud's face. 
 
 " I I must go ; I and the Lady Agathe ? And what 
 of you ? " he asked sharply. 
 
 " My work lies another way, monsieur. Soon per- 
 chance even to-day I may be restored to the favour I 
 have lost. I may not tell you more, since I am sworn to 
 secrecy; but I believe the hope to be no vain one. The 
 Lady Agathe will have naught to do with me for some 
 reason, and " 
 
 " But surely you will learn this reason you will see 
 her ! " broke in Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud shook his head. 
 
 " No ; that I will not," he answered coldly. " Some 
 service have I tried to be to my lady, and because of what 
 came of it what I have become she would lend willing 
 ear against me. Am I, then, to force myself upon her; 
 am I to plead for myself with one so easily swayed from 
 regard to mistrust ? No, monsieur ; though I have little 
 left of pride, that little I will retain so long as may be. 
 Some day the matter will be cleared perchance. But 
 enough of that. Whatever my lady may believe, it must 
 not affect her going from this place. You, Monsieur 
 Vignolles, shall gratify the wish you had in coming here ; 
 you shall escort her to safety." 
 
 162
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 " Before have I told you that such is impossible with- 
 out money, and " 
 
 " And that you shall have, if my plans fail me not," 
 cut in the Sieur Giraud. " Last night did I conjure out 
 how the affair might be managed, and this morning the 
 strange manner of Marcelle has thrown me into a fever 
 to see my lady safe away from here. Yet she may not 
 wander aimlessly about in these Ardennes till such time 
 as I may aid her with the means to travel as becomes her 
 station. There is, however, one refuge where methinks 
 she may safely await its coming; I mean the house of 
 the old vine-grower, Poncet's father. Moreover, she will 
 have the company of the old man's wife, no small thing 
 in her eyes, I'll be sworn. What say you? The house, 
 you know well enough, is but a few leagues from here, 
 a distance you may easily make on foot." 
 
 " Faith, 'tis well enough conceived," answered Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles ; " but I much doubt if these worthy 
 people may be trusted." 
 
 " What, then, is there to intrust to them, monsieur ? 
 What they might not do for the gold we shall promise 
 them, they will do through fear. Remember, 'tis not 
 the first time we have called upon them." 
 
 For some moments Monsieur Vignolles was silent; 
 then he said musingly : 
 
 " In truth, Sieur Giraud, you would do much for my 
 lady, more than most men who had been so treated." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud answered almost with anger. 
 
 " Let my first failure suffice to explain that. If you 
 are agreed, I am off to the vine-grower's to make the 
 arrangement for your coming. By noon I should be 
 there, and I'll answer for their complaisance. Will you 
 follow with the Lady Agathe? At least, she will trust 
 you." 
 
 163
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " You are sure that I shall be free to do so? " asked 
 Monsieur Vignolles, with a jerk of his head toward Tite, 
 and the Sieur Giraud answered quickly enough, for he 
 believed in Marcelle's sincerity, and her tone was still 
 in his ears. 
 
 " Yes ; you will be relieved of your guard, have no 
 fear." 
 
 " Then will I bring my lady to the vine-grower's," 
 replied Monsieur Vignolles, " and, after, we may make 
 further arrangements. But the saints forbid that you 
 should fail in this reinstatement you look for ! " 
 
 " Even so, my lady would be in no worse plight than 
 now," was the answer. " Therefore, do you lose no time 
 in seeing her. I will await you at the man Meux's. 
 Ha! If I mistake me not, here is the order for your 
 release now." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud pointed to one of the Companions 
 who at the moment scrambled down the bank and spoke 
 with Tite. In a moment the latter left him and came to 
 Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 " Now that you're here and forced to remain, I make 
 no doubt that you itch to be away," he said grimly. 
 " Therefore, do you go when it pleases you, since Mar- 
 celle bids me have no more to do with you, and a good 
 riddance it is, indeed." 
 
 " So she opens the way for me, does she ? " said 
 Monsieur Vignolles. " Thanks a thousand thanks be 
 hers for the favour, for, in truth, old Whitehead, your 
 company had begun to pall upon me. Methinks, since 
 rousing me this morning, you have spoken once, and then 
 to bid me shut my -mouth. Have no fear ; I go even upon 
 the instant, loath though I am to leave such affection 
 behind." 
 
 Tite's answer was indistinct. The truth was, he had 
 164
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 scarcely known how to take Monsieur Vignolles, and was 
 glad, as he said, to be rid of his charge. As he stalked 
 away, the Sieur Giraud said shortly: 
 
 " Then 'tis understood, monsieur. I will be off to 
 render your reception easy. As for yourself, do you lose 
 no time in following with my lady. But have a care not 
 to rouse the suspicions of the band that you are aiding 
 her escape. Marcelle will offer no hindrance, but the 
 others may not all be of her mind." 
 
 With that, he turned and passed from view along the 
 ravine, and Monsieur Vignolles, a moment later, made 
 his way up the hill toward Marcelle's cabin. 
 
 Had he not been so preoccupied, he must have seen 
 the crouching, half-running figure that passed him scarce 
 a score paces on his left and the flitting green shadow 
 that followed warily behind. He then would have mar- 
 velled however, he did not see; nor was he delivered 
 from his abstraction till he had come to the open space 
 before the cabin, and saw the Lady Agathe as she walked 
 there. 
 
 She looked up quickly on his approach, and acknowl- 
 edged his bow with some favour. It was in her mind 
 that here, at least, was a man whose honour was untar- 
 nished. 
 
 " My lady, I rejoice to see that the trials of yesterday 
 have left no traces upon the fairness you possess," he 
 began. " Since the face but reflects the mind, may I 
 commend you for bearing this extremity so bravely." 
 
 " I thank you, monsieur," she answered, " but the 
 term o'ershoots the case somewhat, since my trial has 
 been less than would appear, and my state now is not 
 one of extremity." 
 
 " Yet strange and distasteful it must be, my lady," 
 said Monsieur Vignolles in some wonder at her com- 
 
 165
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 posed tone. " It is to release you from such position 
 that I come to you now. I know not whether you are 
 aware of it, but Marcelle has set us both free." 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur Vignolles, I know." 
 
 Again that calm cadence in her voice that puzzled 
 him. 
 
 " I see that I give you no news, my lady ; let me 
 proffer you better," he said. " It was with the faint hope 
 that some such chance would offer that I came hither. 
 Because of some whim, I know not what, Marcelle has 
 thought best to free us. Let us not lose the opportunity, 
 my lady. Come, without losing a moment, come! The 
 others, even the women, are now at the camp eating, and 
 we shall have a most excellent start before they discover 
 our absence." 
 
 " If the others are at the camp, it is because Marcelle 
 herself sent them there," she answered quietly. 
 
 " Then would she give us a free field. Saints, I pre- 
 tend not to understand the woman ! " he said quickly. 
 " But come, my lady ; the distance I have to escort you 
 is naught that you may not cover on foot, and I'll an- 
 swer for your safety with my life better than I did 
 yesterday," he added bitterly. 
 
 " And where, then, would you conduct me, mon- 
 sieur ? " she asked with no trace of eagerness in her 
 voice. 
 
 " To a house scarce three leagues distant, where a 
 woman shall attend upon your wants, and you may re- 
 main till some disposition be made for your journey to 
 Dauphine. Even now the Sieur Giraud is on his way 
 thither, to arrange for your reception." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 There was interest enough in her tone now. 
 
 "And where whose house is this to which you 
 166
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWER'S 
 
 would take me ? " she added, with an apparent struggle 
 to be calm. 
 
 " A humble abode it is for you, my lady, yet 'twill 
 serve your needs, and your stay there will be but short, 
 I trust. 'Tis the house of a vine-grower, one Meux 
 by name, who " 
 
 He checked himself of a sudden at the look of 
 horror which had swept into her face ; but ere he might 
 ask its cause, she cried: 
 
 " You say that the Sieur Giraud d'Orson has has 
 gone to that house this day ? " 
 
 " Since it is true, why may I not say so, my lady ? " 
 he said, and would have spoken more but that she waved 
 him off. 
 
 " Then do you listen to me, Monsieur Vignolles ! " 
 she cried. " Speak no longer of my escape ; it is of no 
 moment, and I would not go in any event. But what 
 goes on at that vine-grower's house to-day may well be 
 worth your attention. I see that you, in truth, are in 
 the dark." 
 
 " My lady, I know not what you mean. I I " 
 
 " You have seen naught behind this excuse for ab- 
 sence the Sieur Giraud has made you ? " she cut in. 
 " You believe that he has gone thither on my behalf. 
 I tell you, they plan to do a man to death at that house 
 to-day, and that man the Count de Charolais." 
 
 " My God, my Lady Agathe, you rave ! You have 
 suffered too much from " 
 
 " I tell you, it is true ; I had the plan from Marcelle 
 herself. The guiding hand belongs to some traitor in 
 Count Charles's own camp at Namur; but one of these 
 Companions will be the actual instrument, unless the 
 design is balked." 
 
 " Count Charles to be murdered ! " cried Monsieur 
 167
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Vignolles hoarsely. " And you would believe the Sieur 
 Giraud capable of having a hand in that, my lady? 
 Then I wonder no longer that you should have turned 
 so suddenly against him. But 'tis folly; 'tis wrong to 
 harbour such thoughts." 
 
 " I harbour no thoughts till I have proof they are 
 warranted, monsieur ; and, God knows, I have had proof 
 enough ! One other among these Companions is in the 
 plot one calling himself Crepin Brune and they have 
 inveigled Count Charles into coming to the vine-grow- 
 er's by promises of delivering over one Gaspard Lenoir, 
 whom he seeks to lay hands on. Which of them deals 
 the death-blow is small matter. Count Charles will come 
 to his death in answer to a letter of the Sieur Giraud 
 d'Orson ; that I know, for with my own ears I heard 
 the Sieur Giraud speak with Crepin concerning it." 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles began to be affected by her 
 assurance. The Sieur Giraud had spoken vaguely with 
 him of some possible return to favour. Could he have 
 meant that such would be his reward for his part in the 
 undoing of Count Charles? That there were those who 
 would gladly so reward him Monsieur Vignolles made 
 no doubt. Moreover, he knew but little of the Sieur 
 Giraud; ne'er had laid eyes on him till they had met 
 at Namur, and all things were possible for a man so 
 fallen. Yet it grated upon him to think this, for he 
 had greatly esteemed the Sieur Giraud, and his was a 
 liking that, once roused, was not lightly thrown aside. 
 
 " My lady, methinks you would be the last one to 
 accuse any man falsely, much less the Sieur Giraud," 
 he said finally. " You say you had this tale from Mar- 
 celle?" 
 
 " Yes, word by word, as I fairly dragged it from 
 her last night, and as she herself had overheard Crepin 
 
 1 68
 
 ON TO THE VINE-GROWERS 
 
 and another arrange it," answered the Lady Agathe. 
 " Her own part in the consummation of the plan was 
 not active ; but she " 
 
 She broke off suddenly. 
 
 " I will not tell you more of that, monsieur," she said. 
 
 " So be it ; I've heard enough, methinks, my lady. 
 Adieu ! " 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles's voice was scarce raised in pitch, 
 yet he spoke with decision and spun round upon his heel. 
 
 " You are going, monsieur ? " cried the Lady Agathe ; 
 and he paused a moment to fling back over his shoulder : 
 
 " To the house of the vine-grower, ay, my lady ; 
 there to know the truth or nail the lie in all this. God 
 rest I be not too late ! " 
 
 With that, he slipped swiftly away, and only the nod- 
 ding undergrowth showed where he had passed through 
 the great green barrier. 
 
 169
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 
 
 IF, for any reason, a man had taken boat from Namur 
 and had ascended the Meuse for some three 
 leagues, he would have covered about half the dis- 
 tance to Dinant, and ahead of him would have 
 loomed a jutting point marking a great bend in the river. 
 If he had run the nose of his craft upon the near side of 
 this point and stepped ashore, the scarred summit of the 
 Great Bald Knoll would have seemed fairly to overhang 
 his head. Yet this .proximity was apparent rather than 
 real, for had the man drawn full bow and discharged a 
 shaft straight at the frowning crag, the missile would 
 have fallen short, assuming him to have been a bowman 
 of average skill and strength. Had he then sought to 
 recover the spent shaft, he first must have penetrated the 
 dense growth of underbrush lining the banks of the 
 stream ; then some scrubby pines merging into the forest 
 proper; and finally would have come upon a woodland 
 trail wide enough, perchance, to allow of two horsemen 
 riding abreast. Somewhere on the other side of this trail, 
 and between it and the steep side of the Great Bald Knoll, 
 he would have come upon his arrow, and in so doing, 
 would have found himself trespassing upon the holding 
 of Meux, the vine-grower. He might have found it in 
 the dense wood lining the winding path that led to the 
 very portal of that worthy's house, or, perchance, it 
 might have o'ershot that mark and sought rest among the 
 straggling vines upon the base hillside. 
 
 170
 
 UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 
 
 At all events, thus had nature dealt with the sur- 
 roundings of the vine-grower's abode, in front spreading 
 vegetation with no niggardly hand, and behind rearing a 
 rocky hillside, where the clearing axe of man had found 
 little to do. The sorry-looking vines testified to the bar- 
 renness of the soil and seemed to subsist irresolute be- 
 tween life and death. Nor was the house itself out of 
 keeping with the general aspect of wretchedness and 
 decay. A weather-stained, two-roomed hut it was, nes- 
 tling against the hillside, its roof partly of tiles, partly of 
 rough thatch, and its door sagging drunkenly upon rot- 
 ting leather hinges. Obviously, improvidence and want 
 in equal portions must account for such squalor. 
 
 However that might be, on this day the lord of this 
 shabby domain was not here to enter a defence against 
 such charge. He had gone with the breaking of day to 
 Dinant, there to learn in the gossip of the streets the 
 latest developments in that turbulent town, and such 
 tidings as might be had from the army of Count Charles ; 
 incidentally, to expend a few derniers in the replenish- 
 ment of his depleted larder. The smoke, which from 
 time to time poured in varying volume through the tile- 
 bound hole in the roof, bore witness to the presence of 
 some one within. 
 
 It wanted an hour of mid-day when the door swung 
 open and that some one was revealed in the person of a 
 bent and wizened old woman, who stood for a moment 
 in the opening. Then she hobbled without and, wringing 
 the water from some clothing she carried on her arm, 
 proceeded to spread the pieces to dry upon the rank 
 weeds bordering the house. That done, she turned and 
 looked a moment along the path, shading her blinking 
 eyes from the sun ; not that she expected the return of 
 her spouse before nightfall, but because it had become 
 12 171
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 a habit with her, that last survey before returning in- 
 doors. 
 
 No living thing met her gaze save a jackdaw which 
 passed in noisy flight over the trees, and, satisfied in 
 mind, she re-entered and the door creaked to behind 
 her. 
 
 Yet, had she ventured a little down the footway, she 
 might have seen the cause of the jackdaw's disquiet, for 
 it was at this precise moment that Crepin Brune crept 
 softly into the tangle of thicket at the pathside. 
 
 Some time he spent in treading down a space wherein 
 he might lie and in arranging the leafy branches so that 
 he had clear view down the path. Then, being at length 
 content with his preparations, he ran his hand caressingly 
 along the twisted deerskin forming the cord of his bow, 
 and silently tested the latter's spring. Which done, he 
 extended himself prone in his lair, a handful of keen- 
 headed shafts at his elbow. There was small need of so 
 many, since he would have but one shot, but the man, 
 being at heart a craven, found that their very numbers, 
 as he fingered them, served to bolster up his courage. 
 
 As he lay thus, his breath came and went like the 
 panting of a dog, for he had come far at a rapid pace 
 and the day was hot. Like to the manner of a dog, too, 
 was the sudden stoppage of his breathing as a rustle fell 
 upon his ears from behind. His hand flew to the knife 
 at his belt and he turned with a kind of forced and 
 dogged courage to meet whatever danger threatened him. 
 Even so may cowardice, pressed to extremity, take on the 
 aspect of daring. 
 
 Ere he might think twice, the growth behind him 
 parted and Marcelle crept into view. 
 
 The arm and its poised blade fell, and his hand shook, 
 now that the sudden tension was ended. 
 
 172
 
 UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 
 
 " Marcelle ! What saint or devil has brought you 
 here ? " he cried under his breath. 
 
 " No saint, nor yet any devil, Crepin ; but only the 
 great longing within me to see the end of this affair," 
 she answered. 
 
 She, too, was breathing hard, and as she drew near 
 to him he saw the wild gleam in her eyes. 
 
 "The end of what affair?" he said. "Bah; one 
 would think you ne'er had seen a roebuck take his death- 
 leap " 
 
 " Oh, Crepin Brune, a truce to your lies ! Does one 
 stalk the deer in such spot as this and with the wind upon 
 one's back ? Have done ! Well enough I know why you 
 are here ; well enough for whom one of those shafts is 
 intended, since you and that other would discuss the 
 very plan with only a thicket between where you sat and 
 where I lay. Thus you hoped to scheme behind my back ; 
 to reap the whole reward and fame. But no ; the Fates 
 ruled otherwise, and I am here." 
 
 As she spoke, Crepin's rage rose hot within him at 
 thought of how he had betrayed himself, yet he fought 
 it down, for he knew not how much of the plot she had 
 overheard, and would not yield at this first word of hers. 
 
 " I know not what meeting 'tis you pretend to have 
 seen, or what schemes you think to have heard," he said 
 sullenly. " But whatever they be, they have naught to 
 do with my being here ; nor can you give me instruction 
 in the chase of deer; for 'tis across this very path here 
 that the king of all the roebucks is wont to make his 
 way to the water-hole a hundred paces distant. I had 
 it from old Meux himself. As for the wind you speak of, 
 there is none." 
 
 In truth, there was but little, yet what there was set 
 the way Marcelle had said. 
 
 173
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " By my faith, Crepin, you are greater fool than I 
 thought, and methinks I might well give you the very 
 instruction you lack ! " she answered. " It well accounts 
 for the fact that ne'er have you furnished deer meat to 
 the camp that you should think to delude me with such 
 tale. One seeks the roebuck at this hour of day lying 
 in the heaviest shade; they move not abroad, either for 
 food or water, under such sun. Moreover, are you given 
 to naming your quarry of a sudden, that this particular 
 king of them all should be called the Count de Charolais? 
 If so, what names bear those others who rendezvous at 
 noon on the Great Bald Knoll yonder? Bah, you fool; 
 do you not see I know all ? " 
 
 And now, indeed, Crepin did curse himself, and half 
 aloud, for not having beaten the wood with greater care 
 before discussing this venture. 
 
 " And if it be true, what then ? " he muttered 
 savagely. " Get you gone from here, Marcelle ! Whether 
 you be my chief or no, I have work to do and no time nor 
 wish for chatter." And added grudgingly, " As for 
 what may come to me if the trick works, you shall have 
 your share." 
 
 " What care I for share in your wretched gold ! " an- 
 swered Marcelle, her eyes burning upon his. " Think 
 you that I have followed you hither for any other pur- 
 pose than to be in at the death of him you wait for? 
 Did I not keep silent as to what I knew, fearful that if 
 you suspected it, the plan would be altered and I so de- 
 prived of this satisfaction ? " 
 
 " So it was but to see the stroke delivered that you 
 came, eh, Marcelle ? " asked Crepin, his gaze fixed upon 
 her face and a strange light in his eyes, which caused 
 her inwardly to shudder. 
 
 She had seen that same light there once before and 
 174
 
 UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 
 
 long ago, when Crepin had first joined the band and had 
 thought to see in her fair prey. Not long had he been in 
 learning his mistake, and since then had taken good care 
 to follow the narrow way she had left him. She had not 
 forgotten, but had believed it a thing of the past, yet 
 now she was again confronted by that same look she had 
 seen in his face before a look that transformed the man 
 into something bestial. She trembled, but spoke bravely 
 enough. 
 
 " It was for that alone I came, Crepin. Surely, I have 
 done enough to merit such right." 
 
 He rose toward her on his elbow, and in so doing 
 the upper half of the long bow beneath him was twisted 
 into view. She started at the sight, yet sheer horror of 
 what she read in his eyes held her speechless. 
 
 " By God, you are beautiful enough this day to mad- 
 den a saint, Marcelle ! " he muttered hoarsely. " Ay, and 
 beautiful enough to deserve death were you cruel to a 
 man." 
 
 She shrank from the arm he stretched toward her 
 and her hand fell upon the bow-head and its taut-drawn 
 string, and again she started. Now was her time if 
 only and then sheer terror of the man forced the words 
 from her and the blood fled in panic from her face. 
 
 " Have a care, Crepin ! " 
 
 He sprang upon her. 
 
 " Ah, you would, eh, you little devil ! " he cried 
 harshly in her ear, and with a wrench tore the small 
 horn-cased knife from her hand, even as it left her 
 bosom. 
 
 " Small, forsooth, yet no pleasing thing to have be- 
 tween one's ribs. I choose it rather without than within 
 me," he added grimly, and dropped it inside his jerkin. 
 " So you would have knifed me in a second more, Mar- 
 
 175
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 celle? By my faith, one would do best to woo such a 
 termagant at sword's point ! " 
 
 And Marcelle answered not; nor, in truth, could she 
 have done so surely, since she knew not whether she had 
 meant to turn the blade against the tense line beneath 
 her hand or this man's heart. Fear had forced the 
 drawing of the weapon fear and that savagery that so 
 becomes a woman who defends her honour and now she 
 had not helped herself, nor performed the mission upon 
 which she had come. She was distracted and the look 
 upon her face one of piteous despair, yet would she fight 
 back and with weapons perchance more formidable than 
 the one she had lost, weapons double-edged with a -fierce 
 cunning and hatred. 
 
 " Ha ! You have not now so much to say for your- 
 self, Marcelle ! " growled Crepin. " Nay ; nor will you 
 e'er again have Crepin Brune flogged for your pleasure, 
 for with this day's work he becomes greater than you 
 and all the band together." 
 
 His voice again grew thick as he approached nearer 
 to her ; but this time she did not shrink, and by almost 
 superhuman spirit forced herself to bear his look. 
 
 " And you think to despise me ; to look on the feeling 
 I have for you as beneath you," he went on ravingly, 
 and seized her arm. " By God, you shall soon know 
 what it is to beg favours of me, Marcelle ! You'll not 
 draw back as though from the plague when I take you in 
 my arms, so, and " 
 
 But here she thrust him violently from her, ere he 
 thought of such a move, for he believed her half-won. 
 
 " And if it be so ? " she cried quickly. " If I might 
 some time find a liking for you, is this time, this place, fit 
 for lovemaking, Crepin? And if while so engaged the 
 Count de Charolais goes free, in what position are you 
 
 176
 
 UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 
 
 then? Must I, a woman, remind you of a man's work? 
 Enough of this, if you would win any favour in my 
 eyes!" 
 
 He looked at her sharply, but she met his gaze fairly. 
 
 " You are right, Marcelle," he said. " It is a com- 
 pact, then, between us. If I succeed, you promise " 
 
 " If you succeed in the killing of the Count de Charo- 
 lais, I promise you that ne'er again will Marcelle deny 
 your desires." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " And a moment ago you would have done for me ! " 
 
 " I might have struck ; yes ! You expect too much 
 for nothing. Such favour as you may desire let me see 
 you gain, here with my own eyes." 
 
 He pondered a moment, then answered gruffly: 
 
 " Let it be so, then ; you shall stay ! Yet shall our 
 bargain be pledged with a caress from those lips of 
 yours, Marcelle, for 'twill hearten me for the work in 
 hand." 
 
 For an instant he held her passionately to him and 
 pressed his bearded lips heavily upon her own cold ones. 
 Then with a low cry of pleasure turned from her and set 
 himself to his task of watching the path through the 
 opening he had made. 
 
 Marcelle fell back and buried her face in the trodden- 
 down twigs and leaves, till naught showed of her face 
 under her black mane of hair. Her form shook con- 
 vulsively, and Crepin, turning his head a moment, 
 shrugged his shoulders derisively, but said no word. 
 Women were women, he argued, and must have their 
 fits of weeping. What concerned him was that she had 
 yielded at last to his will. 
 
 He would scarce have been so content with his 
 victory had he been less jubilant and observed more 
 
 177
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 closely, for beneath that screen of tousled hair a perfect 
 set of the whitest teeth were gnawing a bow-string to a 
 thread. Thus had Marcelle imposed upon him, yet there 
 was no measure of simulation in the bitter tears she 
 shed, nor in the sobs that shook her with such cruel 
 shame. 
 
 So it was that Crepin, intent on watching the path 
 below, and Marcelle engaged upon her task, neither saw 
 the Sieur Giraud as he came from the wood on the upper 
 side and, walking quickly to the house, threw open the 
 door and entered. 
 
 The shadows had scarce altered their positions when 
 Crepin, of a sudden, fell swiftly back from his vantage 
 point and, with a finger on his lips, touched Marcelle on 
 the shoulder. 
 
 " Quick, quick, Marcelle ! Yonder comes our man, 
 and prompt to the very hour ! " 
 
 Indeed the sun now blazed fairly overhead. 
 
 Crepin seized his bow, and Marcelle was perforce 
 obliged to leave her task undone, yet where she had 
 gnawed the bow-string was reduced to a mere fibre, and 
 she prayed that it might not snap too soon with the strain 
 upon it. Perchance, all had been for the best, for had 
 she cut the string, as first intended, Crepin must have 
 discovered it. That would have meant the death to which 
 she had thought to come in following him hither ; now 
 but why speculate upon this very pressing future. She 
 feared lest Crepin, who had fitted shaft to string, would 
 draw silent bow to test its strength. But he was too 
 absorbed in watching the approach of his prey for any 
 other thought, and, moreover, had thoroughly tested his 
 weapon but a little time before. He crouched, cat-like, 
 behind his cover, and, fascinated with the strange horror 
 of the moment, Marcelle seemed rooted behind him. An 
 
 178
 
 UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 
 
 overwhelming impulse was upon her to fly, yet she could 
 not move. 
 
 And now she, too, could see Count Charles as he 
 came swinging up the path, blocking it completely with 
 his massive body. No armour did he wear save a coat of 
 plated mail that shone dazzlingly in the sunlight, where 
 the overlying tunic left some part exposed. Yet this 
 tunic was scarcely less brilliant. Sable though it was in 
 hue, its heavy embroideries of gold and its great crimson 
 and gold Cross of St. Andrew glittered resplendently. 
 Great boots drawn well up his hose testified to his having 
 been but recently in the saddle, and a huge sword, such 
 as only a man of his stature might wield, hung at his side. 
 Beneath his jewelled and plumed cap his face, reddened 
 by the sun, stood out in all its boasted assurance. Well 
 had they named this man Charles the Bold, for in the 
 very careless stride he affected was a fearlessness be- 
 yond compare. 
 
 He came straight onward, with his eyes fixed on the 
 house before him, and Marcelle saw that he would pass 
 Crepin scarce the length of his body away. 
 
 Of a sudden Crepin straightened, and jerked the bow 
 above the brush before him. At the same instant the 
 door of the house creaked open noisily, and the Sieur 
 Giraud appeared in the opening. 
 
 " Ha ! " cried Count Charles, and, even on his word, 
 Crepin drew quick bow. 
 
 " Pht ! " 
 
 The shaft remained fast in Crepin's hand, and the 
 parted string cut lightly across his face. A mad curse 
 burst from his lips. 
 
 Count Charles spun about on his heel for it had 
 been Crepin's plan to strike him from behind and, with 
 an oath, ripped his blade free of its sheath. 
 
 179
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 But Crepin waited not his onslaught. Flinging the 
 shaft and bow desperately at Count Charles, he turned 
 and fled incontinently through the forest. 
 
 Marcelle lay expecting the death-thrust with every 
 rapid flutter of her heart. 
 
 And now, to complete the picture, Monsieur Vignolles 
 burst from the wood before the house and stood gaping, 
 open-mouthed, from Count Charles to the Sieur Giraud. 
 The former had made no attempt to follow Crepin, well 
 knowing he might not hope to overtake him, handicapped 
 as he was by dress, but had again turned savagely upon 
 the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " So there was some trick behind this, as. I was 
 warned," he roared, " and you, Sieur Giraud, you and 
 this whelp of the constable's were behind it! Then, by 
 Heaven, you shall pay for it ! " 
 
 He drew a small golden whistle from his tunic and 
 sounded a long blast, that went echoing in all directions. 
 
 In an instant the heights of the Great Bald Knoll 
 swarmed with men, and they came sprawling down 
 through the vines, their arms flashing fire in the sun. 
 
 " Ha ! You thought the Lion would come to the 
 Sheep for slaughter with never a care, did you ? " cried 
 Count Charles mockingly, and shook the bow and shaft 
 at them. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud took a step forward and cried: 
 
 " My lord, I know naught " 
 
 " And now you would fain deny the very evidence 
 before me ! " shouted Count Charles madly. " Once did 
 I let you go, but, by God and Our Lady, this time shall 
 you hang high as the highest tree may swing such 
 offal!" 
 
 As he ended he made a rush at the two with upraised 
 sword, while the clatter of the men behind grew nearer. 
 
 180
 
 UNDER THE GREAT BALD KNOLL 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles, who had watched all wonder- 
 ingly, now leaped to the Sieur Giraud's side. 
 
 " You know naught of this attack upon Count 
 Charles ! " he gasped hurriedly. 
 
 " Attack ! " muttered the Sieur Giraud dazedly. 
 
 " No ; by my faith, that you do not ! " cried Monsieur 
 Vignolles. " Come, then, man, I may yet save you." 
 
 He seized the other by the arm and dragged him 
 bodily into the wood. 
 
 " Follow me as though all hell was loose after you, 
 for so it is," he cried, as Count Charles plunged from 
 the path after them. 
 
 But in his raging haste the count took no note of a 
 running root, and they heard him come heavily to earth. 
 Then, as they ran, they became conscious that another 
 ran with them, and they both whirled about to ward off 
 such pursuer. 
 
 It was Marcelle. She had fled, even as they had, and 
 scarce knowing or caring whither she went. By chance, 
 they had taken the same direction; but now she was 
 exhausted, and might not go another step. As they 
 turned upon her she sank to the ground, a palpitating 
 little heap. 
 
 " Let the cursed wench go ! " cried Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles, while the noise of pursuit came ever nearer. 
 " 'Tis she who has been at the bottom of this devilry, 
 I'll be sworn, else why is she here? Come, man, I have 
 horses near at hand stolen they are, in truth, as I came 
 hither, but I thought they might serve my lady later, 
 and what matters it? Ne'er will they be of greater ser- 
 vice than now. Come ! " 
 
 Marcelle opened her eyes and looked up into the face 
 of the Sieur Giraud ; then lowered her gaze as quickly. 
 She could not bear the look in his eyes. 
 
 181
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Come, man, let this Marcelle pay for her frolic ! 
 They are almost upon us ! " cried Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud roused suddenly to action. 
 
 " No ; I will not believe it after what she has said 
 to me this day. I will not leave her, monsieur." 
 
 And with that he picked her up as he might have 
 a child and ran onward, and his feet seemed lighter, 
 despite the burden. 
 
 How they came to the horses in only the nick of time, 
 mounted and rode away, twisting, turning, and doubling 
 through such open trails as they found before them, till 
 all pursuit had been left far behind and they might relax 
 their pace, is scarce of moment. 
 
 What is noteworthy, though, is that, as they rode 
 slowly back into the hills near Dinant, Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles, perchance smitten with the harshness of his 
 recent words toward Marcelle, on offering to relieve 
 the Sieur Giraud of his burden, was met by a sharp 
 refusal. 
 
 And this bluntness, considering what he had done 
 for the Sieur Giraud, struck Monsieur Vignolles as being 
 ungrateful, to say the least. 
 
 182
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 GONE! 
 
 IT was mid-afternoon when they reached the ravine 
 below the camp and dismounted, the Sieur Giraud 
 lowering Marcelle to the ground. Many a blessing 
 had he invoked upon the head of Tite as they 
 had ridden thither, for the good beasts which had borne 
 them to safety were none others than those which had 
 fallen to Tite from the bishop's messenger. Unable to 
 dispose of them to his satisfaction, Tite had kept them 
 picketed in favourable feeding places about the camp, 
 and it was in one of these spots that Monsieur Vignolles, 
 speeding with all haste to the vine-grower's, had come 
 upon them. Their harness he remembered to have seen 
 in Tite's burrow, and he had succeeded in laying hands 
 on it without being observed. 
 
 But now, even as they set about unsaddling and re- 
 picketing the horses, Tite suddenly broke from the wood 
 upon them. His face was red, and the sweat had soaked 
 through his jerkin till it was one great stain. 
 
 " So, 'tis you who steal a man's belongings with ne'er 
 so much as ' by your leave ' ! " he cried, his grizzled 
 brows drawn into angry furrows. " The devil's chase 
 have I had in search of " 
 
 He broke off suddenly as he saw Marcelle for the 
 first time. 
 
 " And you, Marcelle ; what have you to do with such 
 knavish work ? ' : he growled. 
 
 183
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Ere she might answer Monsieur Vignolles turned 
 on him and said quickly : 
 
 " Let her alone, old Whitehead. Other knavish work 
 she may be concerned in, but this is none of it. I took 
 your horses though, in truth, I knew not they were 
 yours and they suffer no harm from the little jaunt 
 they've had. So, if you've anything to say, say it to me, 
 and, if you'd fight over it, I am at your service directly 
 I've made this brute fast." 
 
 Tite made an angry stride toward him, but Marcelle 
 raised her hand. 
 
 " Stop, Tite ; you know not what you do. For the 
 taking of your property I alone shall answer, and for 
 your trouble you shall be well paid." 
 
 He looked at her in silence a moment ; then said gruffly : 
 
 " I want no dispute with you, Marcelle ; and if you 
 rule that any young jackanapes can pilfer the very bed 
 from under me, I say so be it this time. But if I catch 
 him at it again, you will not be troubled to interfere." 
 
 " Nor shall I, Tite, since it will not happen again," 
 replied Marcelle. " I may tell you no more, save that 
 these beasts have to-day saved three lives, methinks." 
 
 " One being your own ? " he asked quickly. 
 
 " I make no doubt of that, but question me no further, 
 for I may not answer." 
 
 Tite shook his head slowly. 
 
 "No; I'll inquire no more into your affairs. By St. 
 Hubert, there's much goes on in this camp that a man 
 is best blind to ! Say no further word of this, then, nor 
 of pay for any plague of mine, since your life was con- 
 cerned. To say truth, methought 'twas the work of 
 those curs below, though they should scarce have rallied 
 by now from the welting you gave them, Sieur Giraud." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud wheeled quickly. 
 184
 
 GONE! 
 
 " And how know you that they have rallied ? " he 
 asked in some surprise, for he had thought to have dealt 
 that band a lasting blow. 
 
 " Because, this morning, Poncet saw the camp of 
 some threescore of them not half a league down the val- 
 ley ; and, within the hour, I nearly ran into the same nest 
 while looking for the horses. Tis my notion they only 
 wait for help from over the river to set upon us. When 
 they come, 'twill be no child's play, for, thanks to you, 
 they'll have a heavy score to settle." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud nodded thoughtfully. As for Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles, he wheeled about with a dancing light 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " Do my ears hear aright, that you speak of a fight, 
 old Whitehead ? " he cried. " Faith, as little scruple 
 would I have in bearing arms against you as for you ; 
 but since I am here, and the very smell of it in the air, I 
 cast my lot with you ! I have done naught but dance to 
 the strum of your bow-string since coming here, and I 
 would have a hand if these other thieves are to perform." 
 
 Tite smiled grimly. These were the men, this Sieur 
 Giraud and Monsieur Vignolles, whom he valued at their 
 proper worth when it came to fighting. They were bred 
 to it, while he and the others had been driven to forsake 
 the implements of trade for the bow. He did not think 
 the less of Monsieur Vignolles for his failure to protect 
 the Lady Agathe against him and nine others. How- 
 ever, he only said bluntly: 
 
 " And if you were armed, monsieur, what surety 
 would there be you would not turn upon us ? What say 
 you, Marcelle?" 
 
 " That I would take the word of Monsieur Vignolles," 
 she answered quickly. " If we are set upon, we shall 
 need all the force we may muster." 
 
 185
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I thank you. My word you shall have, then, for 
 this engagement," answered Monsieur Vignolles, bowing 
 shortly. " Yet I will give you no pledge, nor will I fight 
 under your badge, for 'tis for my own diversion I join 
 you and not from any liking for you." 
 
 The time had been, not long before, when Marcelle 
 would have taken this speech in different fashion. Now 
 she merely bowed, and answered quietly : 
 
 " I understand. Tite, restore to Monsieur Vignolles 
 such of his arms as he may desire." 
 
 Tite remained for a moment, looking fixedly at her, 
 then shook himself and, picking up the harness, beckoned 
 Monsieur Vignolles to follow. 
 
 As they went up the hill together, the Sieur Giraud 
 spoke. His quiet tone hardly reflected the turmoil within 
 him. 
 
 " And now, Marcelle, I am waiting." 
 
 She started, yet she had known it was coming. The 
 woman in her made her seek to stave off the inevitable. 
 
 " Waiting, Sieur Giraud ? For what " 
 
 " Have done with foolery, Marcelle ; I am in no mood 
 for it! This day have I seen murder attempted, foul 
 murder that failed, methinks, only because the wretch 
 who would have done it lost heart at the last moment." 
 
 " Lost heart ? " she gasped. 
 
 " Ay, lost heart ; nor am I surprised thereat, since 
 'twas likely none other than that knave Crepin but why 
 go over it all again? Think you I am longer blind to 
 the way I have been tricked, and that I know not it was 
 some tampering with my letter that brought Count 
 Charles to the vine-grower's? Why, I could see he 
 looked for me just before the shot if shot it can be 
 called and he accused me of laying the trap in a way 
 that leaves no doubt." 
 
 186
 
 GONE ! 
 
 " Am I to be charged with all that Crepin may do? " 
 she asked, fighting for time to think. All the way through 
 the forest had she been thinking, yet had not been able 
 to settle on any plan. 
 
 " I am not charging you with all that Crepin may 
 have done," he replied sternly. " I am not so short of 
 memory as to have forgotten already what you said of 
 Count Charles what you tried to make me say regard- 
 ing his death yonder at my post on the hills." 
 
 " That that was before," she said brokenly. 
 
 "Ay, and should have opened my eyes wider, but I 
 believed it but mad rage that prompted your words. This 
 morning, when I spoke to you of going away, of the re- 
 lease of the Lady Agathe, methought that ne'er had I seen 
 any woman more kind and gentle, and but why bring 
 that back when at the very moment you were acting the 
 lie? You, it was; you, it must have been, who, with 
 some false tale, turned my lady against me, and all be- 
 cause the very devil within you twists you from good 
 impulse to bad as the wind veers to the four points." 
 
 " I had naught to do with the Lady Agathe's refusal 
 to see you, nor did I suspect her distrust of you till she 
 did so," answered Marcelle. 
 
 He started. Was it possible that the Lady Agathe 
 had in some way learned of the plot against Count 
 Charles ? 
 
 " You know what it was my lady held against me ! " 
 he cried sharply. " Had it to do with this affair at the 
 vine-grower's ? " 
 
 She made no reply, for her brain was whirling. 
 What should she do? Should she confess all? Oh! 
 How dearly would she love to tell this man of the part 
 she had played, yet 
 
 Again his harsh words broke in upon her thoughts. 
 13 187
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " So it did have to do with this dastardly plan. And 
 you you, Marcelle, knowing I had naught to do with 
 it, let my lady believe in my guilt. Ha! And so you 
 would, fearing lest my lady and I should meet and she 
 tell me all. God knows, she would have done so, for 
 ne'er was truer heart than hers." 
 
 His words stung her cruelly. Always, always it was 
 this praise of the other she must hear from him. Not 
 that she longer hated the Lady Agathe; in truth, she 
 would have resented any reproach cast upon her, but 
 to have the Sieur Giraud so extol her goodness was un- 
 bearable. 
 
 " Yes, the Lady Agathe, in truth, would have told 
 you all," she said bitterly, and, with the words, put be- 
 hind her all thought of confession. Hers had been the 
 hand which had averted this crime, yet what would he 
 see in that save the use of the humble instrument. To 
 the other would go all his praise. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud had been pacing up and down rest- 
 lessly, and now stopped before her. 
 
 " You admit having kept my lady deceived," he said. 
 " There is but one deduction ; you wished for the success 
 of this plot and were there to see it consummated. My 
 God, had I believed that had I been sure of that I 
 would have left you lying where you fell back there ! " 
 
 He paused, and, removing his cap, tore from it the 
 green shoot that adorned it. 
 
 " I would not be thought to have less scruple than 
 Monsieur Vignolles," he said coldly, and dropped it at 
 her feet; then turned on his heel. 
 
 All things seemed growing black around her, and 
 she swayed till her hand found the support of a tree. 
 
 " You are going for ever ? " she gasped. 
 
 A moment he paused and looked back. 
 188
 
 GONE! 
 
 " I am going to learn what I may from Monsieur 
 Vignolles ; then, to acquit myself in the eyes of my Lady 
 Agathe," he said, and in a moment was gone. 
 
 Marcelle closed her eyes, and for some time leaned 
 heavily against the tree. Then of a sudden she roused 
 and, with a startled cry, flew up the hill. But one thing 
 was now in her mind. This meeting of the Sieur Giraud 
 and the Lady Agathe must be prevented; never could 
 she suffer that. 
 
 " Poor Marcelle ! Nobly have you acquitted your- 
 self this day; splendid your willingness to die that an- 
 other might live; sublime your conquest of that evil 
 impulse within you ! Yet the light that you have seen 
 has been but a passing flare ; the chastening of your wild 
 spirit has but begun, and uncurbed passion in full flood 
 sweeps away your better self. Take heed, lest you o'er- 
 step the brink of that dark chasm whereon you totter! 
 Take heed lest this glimpse you have caught of the 
 breaking dawn be blotted out for ever in the darkness 
 of that pit ! " 
 
 Thus did a voice whisper in her ears as she ran on 
 toward her cabin ; yet she heard it as though from afar, 
 and the frenzied passion that possessed her was very 
 near. 
 
 She came upon the Lady Agathe seated upon the 
 end of a prostrate pine, and, at sight of her, pulled up 
 sharply; for covering the fair figure of my lady was 
 now the green velvet bodice and kirtle of a Companion. 
 From the spray of green in her hair to the tips of her 
 thong-bound toes the Lady Agathe, in dress, was a 
 replica of Marcelle herself. At her side, with her head 
 bent in critical approval, stood Petite Maman, and, in- 
 deed, even in so short a time, she and the others had 
 fashioned this attire quite to their satisfaction. Per- 
 
 189
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 chance it followed not so closely the curves of the figure 
 as did Marcelle's; but the Lady Agathe had always a 
 way of bearing her attire that was ample reward to 
 those whose handiwork it was. 
 
 As she saw Marcelle she sprang up with a cry of 
 relief. 
 
 " You you have succeeded, Marcelle ? " she asked 
 anxiously. " You see, I have been true to my word, 
 and have pledged it in this dress." 
 
 Marcelle did not answer her at once, but said to the 
 other : 
 
 " You have done well, Petite Maman, and I am 
 pleased with the speed you have shown. Know you 
 where Poncet or Andre may be found ? " 
 
 " Poncet I saw going toward the camp but a few 
 moments ago, Marcelle," answered the woman. " As 
 for Andre, he is in the hills with most of the others, 
 watching those rogues from over the river." 
 
 " Do you search for and bring Poncet hither ; ay, 
 and one other of the band, it matters not whom. And 
 go with all haste upon the errand." 
 
 " As soon as they may be found they shall be here, 
 if I have to bring them one under each arm," answered 
 Petite Maman, and departed in the direction of the 
 camp. 
 
 Marcelle turned to the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " You should have more care how you speak before 
 others, Agathe," she said, and tossed her head toward 
 the retreating figure. 
 
 " I know I know, and am sorry ; but the words 
 escaped me ere I thought," cried the Lady Agathe. 
 " But now, speak, Marcelle ! In pity's name, relieve 
 my anxiety. You have succeeded? Count Charles 
 lives?" 
 
 190
 
 GONE! 
 
 " Count Charles lives ; yes, I have seen to that, 
 Agathe." 
 
 In an instant the other had thrown her arms about 
 Marcelle, and was breathing soft and broken words of 
 relief and thanks into her ears. As for Marcelle, she 
 seemed to suffer the embrace rather than find pleasure 
 in it ; but the Lady Agathe noticed this not at all in her 
 own joy. 
 
 " Thank God, that danger is past ! " she said. " Oh, 
 Marcelle, what a wondrous power you are in these Ar- 
 dennes! Tell me tell me how you have accomplished 
 what no other might have done." 
 
 Here, indeed, was praise and recognition, yet Mar- 
 celle betrayed no gratification. She had nerved herself 
 not to do so, and she answered shortly enough: 
 
 " Agathe, bid me not rehearse what has gone before. 
 Enough that you know I have kept my trust with you, 
 and that my hand saved Count Charles from the certain 
 death that menaced him. Crepin it was who would 
 have done him to death, had his bow-string been more 
 sound." 
 
 "And and the Sieur Giraud, you you saw him 
 there, at the vine-grower's?" 
 
 " Yes, he was there," answered Marcelle quickly. 
 " But come, Agathe, another time will answer for de- 
 tails, and " 
 
 " Did Count Charles see the Sieur Giraud ? " per- 
 sisted the other. 
 
 "Ay, and set upon him with drawn sword, so that 
 he must have fallen had not Monsieur Vignolles " 
 
 She paused suddenly. In a moment more she would 
 have told the Lady Agathe that which would have con- 
 vinced her of the Sieur Giraud's innocence. 
 - " Oh, ask me not to say what took place," she went 
 
 191
 
 on rapidly. " There was much shouting and cursing 
 soldiers rushing down the hillside, and then we were 
 chased like deer through the forest till we shook them 
 off and made our way here." 
 
 " Then the Sieur Giraud escaped ? " cried the Lady 
 Agathe. 
 
 " Ay ; he is safe enough and Monsieur Vignolles as 
 well," answered Marcelle. " But I tell you, Agathe, there 
 is no time for going over all this. You have had your 
 wish, and the Count de Charolais will live, perchance to 
 butcher us all some day. You heard what Petite Maman 
 said of the men watching the band from over the river. 
 'Tis the same band that the Sieur Giraud and some of 
 our men fought yesterday. They have recruited their 
 strength to three-score and are close upon us, and when 
 they come, this will be no place for you. You must leave 
 the camp at once." 
 
 The Lady Agathe's heart fluttered tumultuously, for 
 the mere thought of fighting filled her with fear and 
 dread. Yet she assumed a courage she was far from 
 feeling. 
 
 " Leave the camp, Marcelle ? What mean you, and 
 even did I do so, where should I go ? " 
 
 " That I have arranged," answered Marcelle. " At 
 any hour now, by night or day, these others may be upon 
 us. Perchance we shall beat them off, but, in any event, 
 you shall not remain to take that risk. Yonder, scarce an 
 hour's walk through the valley, lies Dinant. There you 
 will be safe. Poncet and the other for whom I have sent 
 will lead you thither, and you should be within the walls 
 before the gates are closed, if you start at once. I will 
 send with you Petite Maman and Bonne Fleuron, who 
 will conduct you to a house where you will be well cared 
 for, and there will remain with you. If those who attack 
 
 192
 
 GONE! 
 
 us do not gain the upper hand, I myself shall come to 
 you ere long." 
 
 " But I would prefer remaining here, Marcelle ! I 
 would rather share such fortune as may befall you, now 
 that I have entered upon it." 
 
 " And I say that I will not have you here ! " cried 
 Marcelle, stamping her foot. " You have no part in this 
 hill strife; and what, in truth, could you do to help? 
 Can you draw bow and be sure your shaft will find its 
 mark ? No ; nor can you see the difference between the 
 forest shadows and those flitting ones that betoken the 
 foe in the half-light of evening. These things we, who 
 have lived in these hills, can do, and so we stay. That 
 I send the two women with you means the loss of two 
 good bows ; yet go you shall, and at once ! " 
 
 There was no denying the decision in her tone. In 
 truth, the Lady Agathe might have refused absolutely; 
 but at heart she still feared this girl whose will seemed 
 law; and, moreover, she felt that Marcelle had softened 
 toward her and was thinking only of her welfare. If 
 this had not been enough to decide her, the service Mar- 
 celle had done that day would have sufficed. 
 
 The Lady Agathe rose. 
 
 " I will go," she said simply, and then added quickly, 
 " And Monsieur Vignolles, he he remains here ? " 
 
 Marcelle looked at her sharply, but the Lady Agathe's 
 face was averted. 
 
 " You will scarce expect me to send more men than 
 are needed," said Marcelle. " Even Poncet and the other 
 must return with all speed. As for Monsieur Vignolles, 
 he will lend us too strong a hand to be spared." 
 
 She swung about nervously at sound of footsteps be- 
 hind her ; but it was only Petite Maman with Poncet and 
 Moise, and she again turned hastily to the Lady Agathe. 
 
 193
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Make a bundle of your clothing and they shall carry 
 it; and waste no time," she said sharply, and the Lady 
 Agathe ran to the cabin and disappeared within the 
 entrance. 
 
 Marcelle turned to the others and spoke shortly but 
 earnestly, while Petite Maman ran to the women's 
 quarters. 
 
 When the Lady Agathe emerged with her bundle she 
 found her escort of four awaiting her. The woman, 
 Bonne Fleuron, relieved her of her burden and they 
 started forward quickly. But the Lady Agathe lingered 
 a moment. 
 
 " Good-bye, Marcelle, and God keep you from 
 harm ! " she said. " What you do is for my profit, I 
 know, and thank you for it. You will come soon to 
 Dinant?" 
 
 " I shall come soon to Dinant if but you know, 
 Agathe ; go go quickly ! " 
 
 And with that they took up their way along the ridge 
 and the wood swallowed them up. 
 
 Marcelle remained an instant looking after them; 
 then with a quick-drawn breath plunged into the forest 
 back of the cabin. 
 
 It was a full half-hour later when the Sieur Giraud 
 and Monsieur Vignolles came hurriedly into the little 
 clearing before the cabin. They had had much to discuss, 
 and the Sieur Giraud had learned all that the other knew. 
 This time he showed no scruple, but strode quickly to 
 the entrance. 
 
 " My Lady Agathe," he called softly, and on receiv- 
 ing no response, repeated the cry in a louder voice. 
 
 A crow cawed noisily from a near-by treetop as 
 though in derision. 
 
 194
 
 GONE! 
 
 One of the women Ulrique Cadet, it was thrust 
 her head from the door of their quarters, some score 
 paces distant. 
 
 " The Lady Agathe ; I would see her know you 
 where she may be found ? " cried the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 The woman laughed coarsely. 
 
 " Are you mad, man, that you think to find such as 
 she here with the first whiff of trouble in the air you, 
 who should know her sort ? " 
 
 " A pox on your wagging tongue, woman ! Where 
 is the Lady Agathe ? " 
 
 Ulrique found a great pleasure in tantalizing this man 
 whom she felt was above her. It was an opportunity not 
 often vouchsafed her, and therefore she made no haste 
 in answering his angry query. 
 
 "If you know not the breed, by my faith, I do well 
 enough ! " she mocked. " When all is serene 'tis ' Make 
 way for my lady ! ' and curtsey to the ground and dodge 
 the horses lest you be trampled underfoot. But let them 
 once scent danger, and 'tis ' Step forward, my good man, 
 or my good woman, and a piece of gold for those you 
 leave behind if you die.' Ha! Trust them to look 
 after " 
 
 " A thousand curses on your gabble ! " cried the Sieur 
 Giraud, striding rapidly toward her. " Once more, I ask 
 you where the Lady Agathe may be found." 
 
 His look sobered the woman and she withdrew half- 
 way within the hut. 
 
 " Would you find her ? Seek her then in Dinant, 
 whither she has gone to save her precious skin ! " she 
 rasped forth sullenly, and slammed the door in his face. 
 
 "Dinant! Gone!" 
 
 The Sieur Giraud looked blankly at Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles. 
 
 '95
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Then, by all the saints, will we, too, go to Dinant ! " 
 he cried. 
 
 His challenging tone was needlessly emphatic. They 
 were both going to Dinant, though not quite in the way 
 he anticipated. 
 
 196
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE FATES AND CREPIN BRUNE 
 
 WHATEVER else might be said for or against 
 Crepin and there was much that fell un- 
 der the latter head his knowledge of that 
 part of the Ardennes which he and the 
 Companions roamed was, beyond a doubt, comprehen- 
 sive. 
 
 There had, indeed, been much reason in Marcelle's 
 sneer at his failure to do his share toward supplying 
 the camp kettle, and as a deer-stalker, Crepin was far 
 from being a prodigy. Yet there was scarce a deer-path 
 or runway thereabout that he had not passed over time 
 and again, and, despite Marcelle's scoffing, he had 
 brought many an antlered head to earth. This had been 
 on occasions when long pursuit had not been needful 
 and the game had literally walked to meet its death. 
 That these trophies had never appeared at the camp was 
 true enough, for, above all, Crepin was essentially lazy, 
 and avoided the packing of a deer carcass a league or 
 two as he would have shunned the plague. The choicest 
 cut had sufficed his immediate needs, and the rest he had 
 left to the more energetic scavengers of the forest. 
 
 So it was that, equipped with this extensive wood 
 lore, he rapidly left behind the shouting and noise of 
 pursuit, and, first falling into a walk, finally stopped and 
 threw himself full length on the ground. He had nearly 
 doubled on his track, deeming that the safer method. 
 
 Till he had regained his breath, he lay quite still, 
 197
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 gazing upward into the leafy vault. He wondered how 
 it had fared with Marcelle, and ground his teeth sav- 
 agely at thought of how he had lost all that she had 
 promised him; but, most of all, he wondered what had 
 made his bow-string give way in such fashion. Never 
 did it occur to him that to leave the girl as he had was 
 aught but natural. Then he fell to thinking what course 
 was left open to him, and it flashed upon him that it 
 depended on Marcelle's fate alone. If she had been 
 taken, he made no doubt that she had already been 
 swung to a tree, for Count Charles would hang a Com- 
 panion, man or woman, with never a thought of the 
 sex. That being so, he, Crepin, might venture back to 
 the camp. But suppose she had escaped. In that case 
 better might she hope for pity from Count Charles than 
 Crepin from her, after what had occurred between them 
 and his subsequent failure. However, he believed that 
 she could hardly have got free for he knew naught of 
 the Sieur Giraud or Monsieur Vignolles being there 
 and he resolved to approach the camp that night and 
 discover the truth for himself. Meanwhile, he was safe 
 though bitterly he cursed his luck and had but to lie 
 quiet until nightfall. Content with his own escape, he 
 kicked his feet lazily in the air. 
 
 Often enough the Fates seem to smile upon the 
 designs of a rogue, and doubtless Crepin had precedent 
 to lend weight to his philosophy. But it so chanced that 
 a part of the constable's force, having been delayed in 
 the pursuit of a score of vagabonds they had come upon, 
 were even then hurrying up the river side toward the 
 rendezvous at the Great Bald Knoll. Crepin had natu- 
 rally enough fled toward the river as being away from 
 that concourse of troops, and now, as he lay revelling 
 in his master-stroke in so eluding them, his ears were 
 
 198
 
 THE FATES AND CRfrPIN BRUNE 
 
 assailed by the noise of this body of men approaching 
 from that very direction. 
 
 He leaped to his feet with a curse, and stood a 
 moment hesitating. To run before them was to meet 
 the others. To try either way along the river was 
 to cross open ground where he must be seen. They 
 were close upon him, and he had little time to decide. 
 With a savage growl, as of a tracked beast, he dived 
 head foremost into a copse of brake, and the drooping 
 leaves closed over him. 
 
 Here, again, all would have been well had the Fates 
 decreed that these men should be intent only on reaching 
 their appointed place. But it chanced that two archers 
 of the guard, despite their long march, were engaged in 
 buffeting each other about as they proceeded, much to 
 the gratification of their mates. It chanced, also, that, 
 even as they came abreast of the copse of brake, one of 
 them, in leaping aside to avoid the other's blow, came 
 down with both feet upon the leg of the unlucky Crepin. 
 
 The tussle was short, for the archers of the con- 
 stable's guard were no mean fellows. Crepin, jerked 
 to his feet, found himself in the midst of a score grin- 
 ning faces, yet took little comfort from that pleasing 
 expression of countenance. 
 
 " Saints! This is no mean addition to our bag! If 
 I mistake me not, 'tis the badge of the mad wench this 
 knave wears in his cap," cried one who seemed to lead 
 the party. 
 
 Crepin, looking farther, now saw a half-dozen 
 despairing wretches tied together, and even as his eyes 
 fell on these other Companions, he was dragged toward 
 them and made secure in like fashion. And now he saw 
 death large before him and whimpered. 
 
 " A plague on your whining ! " roared the one who 
 199
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 had jumped upon him. " Save your breath, that you 
 may sing while you dance on air. We have a ditty that 
 methinks will serve your purpose." 
 
 At which the others laughed uproariously ; and some 
 of them prodding the prisoners sharply with their shafts, 
 the party once more took up its march, bellowing a liven- 
 ing song, to which their feet kept pace: 
 
 Then ho, for the Forest of Ardennes! 
 
 And a curse on the knaves that are free! 
 
 The bow-strings are twanging and soon they'll be hanging 
 
 To rot on the uppermost tree. 
 
 Ha! Ha! On the uppermost tree. 
 
 One attempt Crepin made to speak to the archer 
 nearest him, and was rewarded with a blow across the 
 mouth that split his lip against his teeth. After that he 
 shuffled along with the rest quiet enough. 
 
 As the company came into the lane before the vine- 
 grower's house, they came full upon Count Charles. 
 He was now mounted and accompanied by a numerous 
 staff, among whom was the constable, though Crepin 
 knew him not. His face was black with rage. 
 
 " What brawlers are these who set the wood echoing 
 with their clamour ? " cried the count. 
 
 He paused suddenly, and his look brightened at sight 
 of the prisoners,, while the archers came to a prompt 
 salute. 
 
 " Ah, methinks 'tis your company of archers that was 
 missing before, my lord," he said, turning to the Count 
 de St. Pol, and, on the latter acquiescing, spoke sharply 
 to the captain of archers. 
 
 " When an hour for rendezvous shall be set, it will 
 behoove you to be more punctual in the future, sir. 
 Yet I see that you have not been idle. Seven to your 
 
 200
 
 THE FATES AND CREPIN BRUNE 
 
 net; that makes two-score and three in all; good exam- 
 ples that the wind shall swing in the sight of these fools 
 as an earnest of what is to come. Away with them yet 
 stay; yonder, with the green emblem in his cap, me- 
 thinks that is the token of this Marcelle the Mad." 
 
 The man's hawk-like eye overlooked nothing. 
 
 " So I believe it to be, my lord count," answered 
 the captain. " We took him not with the others, but 
 scarce five-score paces yonder, concealed in a thicket." 
 
 Count Charles's eye lighted suddenly. 
 
 " Is it so ? " he said after a pause, during which he 
 fixed a look on Crepin that sent that worthy's knees 
 knocking together in terror. Then he added to the cap- 
 tain : " Take these others to the top of the Great Bald 
 Knoll and hang them next those you find there. I would 
 not separate them too long, these Companions. Leave 
 this last capture of yours here." 
 
 With that the poor wretches set up a wild howling, 
 and grovelled before him for mercy. As well might 
 they have appealed to the very horse he bestrode. 
 
 " Away with them ! " he said harshly. 
 
 And with that the archers laid hold of them and 
 dragged them savagely to their doom, fighting and 
 screaming with such agony that many a man there 
 hitched uneasily in his saddle and exchanged looks with 
 one near him. 
 
 Not a muscle of Count Charles's face moved, and 
 he sat his horse as though he were image and not man 
 till the hubbub had subsided into a far-away moan. 
 Then he waved the rest back from him, and beckoned 
 the two archers holding Crepin to bring their prisoner 
 near. 
 
 " For you such death as they meet is too good, since 
 you wear that emblem ! " he said. 
 
 201
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Crepin would have torn the cap from his head save 
 that the guards held his hands. 
 
 " But before settling on fit ending for you, I would 
 know what business brought you here this day?" went 
 on Count Charles. 
 
 Crepin stammered; he had not had time to concoct 
 a tale. 
 
 " The the only the chase of a roebuck, my lord ; 
 I swear it," he said, and fell to his knees ere the arch- 
 ers could prevent him. 
 
 " Raise the fool ! " said Count Charles, and the arch- 
 ers jerked him to his feet with small gentleness. 
 
 How different was this Count Charles from that un- 
 suspecting man he had tried to shoot down from behind. 
 
 " The man lies, my lord count," said one of the 
 archers, " for when we took him he was, as he is now, 
 without arms." 
 
 Count Charles started. 
 
 " Ha ! I'll be sworn I could find a bow that would 
 fit your hand, my man, and that not far from here," 
 he said grimly. " By my faith, 'twas you the Sieur 
 Giraud set to do me to death ! " 
 
 " No ; no, my lord, I swear " 
 
 Crepin broke off suddenly. There was small chance 
 now for him in any event ; but if he could shift it all on 
 to the Sieur Giraud's shoulders, perchance 
 
 " My lord, I I knew not who it was the Sieur 
 Giraud set me to kill; I swear by all the saints! Tis 
 not for me to deceive my lord Count de Charolais. I 
 was paid well for the work, and had no thought that it 
 concerned my lord. I am not mad enough for that." 
 
 Crepin was feeling his way carefully, and, Count 
 Charles making no move to speak as he paused, con- 
 tinued hurriedly: 
 
 202
 
 THE FATES AND CREPIN BRUNE 
 
 " When I first saw you come into the path, and knew 
 it was you, my lord count, or some great personage, I 
 had been hired to do for, I cursed the day I had made 
 such bargain." 
 
 "Very good; anything further?" asked Count 
 Charles mockingly. " You cursed, perchance ; but you 
 shot, or tried to, nevertheless." 
 
 '' Because I believed that I ne'er would have been 
 given such work unless I was to be watched, my lord, 
 and little taste have I for such hand as this Sieur Giraud 
 possesses. Somewhere behind me, in the trees, per- 
 chance I felt that his eye was upon me." 
 
 " And there you were right ; he was watching you 
 from the house! " exclaimed Count Charles impetuously. 
 
 For an instant Crepin was struck dumb with sur- 
 prise ; but he was fighting for his life, and went on with 
 scarce a trace of it in his tone. 
 
 " I knew not, my lord ; but I could have sworn he 
 would be somewhere near. I dared not run ; I dared not 
 shoot. There was but one thing left me. I hacked my 
 bow-string nearly in two and stood up so that he might 
 see me draw bow. Yet the shaft ne'er left my hand. 
 Then, my lord then I ran." 
 
 Count Charles looked at him with piercing gaze. 
 True enough, the bow-string had been nearly severed in 
 one spot ; that he had seen for himself, and the tale of a 
 broken bow-string would go far to palliate the man's 
 failure. Not for a moment did Count Charles think of 
 leniency, even if the tale were true. The man should die, 
 like all the rest caught in these hills. Only, he was in- 
 terested. 
 
 As for Crepin, the lie he had put forward had flashed 
 upon him suddenly. That his bow-string had suffered 
 some damage he knew must be true, for he had selected 
 14 203
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 it with the utmost care and tested it with great thorough- 
 ness. An unnoticed and jagged stone, as he had lain 
 upon his bow, might have been responsible, and he had 
 snatched eagerly at the idea as one that might, per- 
 chance, save him from the unknown torture he believed 
 awaited him. 
 
 A short time Count Charles remained motionless ; 
 then swung about in the saddle and beckoned the Count 
 de St. Pol to approach. They spoke together for some 
 moments in low tones so that Crepin caught no word of 
 their talk. Had he not been so preoccupied with his own 
 fear he might have noted the sudden but momentary 
 blanching of the constable's visage as Count Charles first 
 addressed him, and caught the half-apprehensive look the 
 constable shot toward him. But, of course, Crepin had 
 eyes only for his terrible inquisitor, and, moreover, 
 knew not that the other was Louis de Luxembourg, 
 Constable of France. Which, considering Crepin's 
 desperate state of mind, perchance, was as well for the 
 constable. 
 
 At length Count Charles turned again to Crepin. 
 
 " I know not how much of your tale be true, fel- 
 low," he said. " Some of it conforms to what I myself 
 observed; yet, even be it so, the avowal shall not save 
 you. As soon would I spare a venomous reptile that had 
 struck at me, as one of these Companions of the Green 
 Tent; much less one of that cursed mad woman's band. 
 Yet you have somewhat appeased my curiosity, and I 
 would reward you *-" 
 
 " May the blessing of all the saints " began Crepin 
 thankfully, his face lighting up quickly. 
 
 " with the same death as the others, in place of that 
 I contemplated," added Count Charles drily, and sig- 
 nalled the archers to remove him. 
 
 204
 
 THE FATES AND CRlPIN BRUNE 
 
 The constable raised himself in his stirrups as though 
 seeking a more comfortable seat, and smiled. 
 
 As the archers took fresh hold of Crepin and started 
 to drag him off, he shrieked with such terror that, in 
 disgust, Count Charles rapped his pommel sharply. 
 
 " Bah ! you've played the bold rover of the Ardennes 
 with enough swagger, I'll be sworn ! " he sneered. 
 " Show a little of that boasted spirit when death con- 
 fronts you." 
 
 " But you would kill me for what another has done ! " 
 bawled Crepin shrilly. " 'Tis the Sieur Giraud who laid 
 the plot against my lord count; and I I, Crepin Brune, 
 can deliver him into your hand ay, and all the band and 
 Marcelle the Mad, herself, if she still lives. But spare 
 me and you shall see, my lord ! " 
 
 He struggled so desperately that, for a moment, he 
 shook off the guards who held him and stood with trem- 
 bling hands outstretched toward Count Charles and great 
 drops of clammy sweat upon his face. An instant more 
 and the archers had seized him again, roughly; but 
 Count Charles stayed them with a rapid gesture. 
 
 " Ha ! That had not occurred to me," he cried. 
 " Yet if 'twere possible, willingly enough would I give 
 you your wretched life in exchange." 
 
 " It is possible, my lord count," began Crepin ; but 
 the constable had spurred to Count Charles's side and the 
 latter had turned to speak with him. There was a look 
 of much earnestness on the constable's face now as he 
 talked rapidly, and no trace of the smile he had worn. 
 Evidently, this fresh development was anything but 
 pleasing to him. However, he seemed to make little im- 
 pression on the mind of Count Charles, for after a 
 moment the latter shook his head negatively and again 
 addressed Crepin. 
 
 205
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " What you offer is too seductive to be ignored," he 
 said impetuously. " You say that you can deliver over 
 to me the Sieur Giraud and the mad wench ? " 
 
 " I may not place them in my lord count's hand, 
 bound and fast," answered Crepin quickly ; " but I can 
 this very day lead my lord count to the camp of Mar- 
 celle, scarce three leagues distant in the hills. It would 
 be strange if my lord should fail to lay hands on them 
 both." 
 
 " How many numbers this band ? " asked Count 
 Charles, after a pause. 
 
 " Three-score and eight when all are in camp ; but 
 some are sure to be in the hills." 
 
 " By my faith, 'twould be a fitting close to the day ! " 
 exclaimed the count, half to himself. " And if Mon- 
 seigneur did not require my presence at Namur, I would 
 be disposed but what of that ? Three-score and eight 
 two-score of our own archers should account for these 
 boors with little trouble. Nor is it only question of lay- 
 ing hands on the Sieur Giraud and the woman. To-day 
 have I seen that other with the Sieur Giraud, that Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles. That can only mean that the Lady 
 Agathe is in their hands as well." 
 
 Again the constable spoke earnestly to Count Charles, 
 but this time he was waved aside quickly. 
 
 " I am disposed to look on your offer with favour," 
 he said sharply to Crepin. " You shall have your life if 
 you lead my men straight to the camp of Marcelle." 
 
 He turned and called to one of his staff, who spurred 
 forward. It was Captain Chaubran. 
 
 " Collect two-score of the archers of my guard they 
 will be returning from their pursuit now and follow 
 where this man shall lead you. Let him be roped to two 
 of our men that he may try no tricks. You will do best 
 
 206
 
 THE FATES AND CREPIN BRUNE 
 
 to wait till dark before falling upon them, but when you 
 do so, remember, I want no prisoners. The Lady Agathe, 
 I have reason to believe, has been taken by this band. 
 It will be your task to release her and escort her to 
 Namur. I except the Sieur Giraud d'Orson and the mad 
 woman from what I said regarding prisoners. Bring 
 them to me dead if need be; but your reward shall, be 
 doubled if they be living. I would settle their lot myself. 
 If this man leads you straight, set him free when you 
 come to the camp. Go ! " 
 
 Chaubran saluted and, wheeling about, rode off to 
 gather his force. Count Charles turned upon the arch- 
 ers who held Crepin. 
 
 " Your lives shall answer for that fellow till you turn 
 him over to my guard," he said shortly, then to the 
 others, " And now, my lords, to assemble your men ; and 
 so to Namur." 
 
 A moment the wood echoed with the jingle of spurs 
 and the clash of armour. Then Crepin found himself 
 alone with his guards, who now prudently set about 
 binding him hand and foot, but Crepin resisted* no longer. 
 Had he been a godly man he would have poured forth 
 his thanks to God for such escape. Being what he was, 
 he gloried in his own acumen ; cursed weakly as the ropes 
 cut his flesh; then waited with his head sunk upon his 
 breast. After all, the Fates had been kind. 
 
 On the Great Bald Knoll two-score and two other 
 heads nodded as though in sympathy. It is doubtful if 
 Crepin had now a thought for those senseless shapes. 
 
 207
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 WHETHER the Sieur Giraud and Monsieur 
 Vignolles would have set forth hot-foot for 
 Dinant on learning of the Lady Agathe's 
 departure thither is of small moment, since 
 they were given no option in the matter. The proba- 
 bility is that they would have done so with never a 
 second thought, for both now held this band of Com- 
 panions in greater abhorrence than ever, and Monsieur 
 Vignolles, now that he had become aware of all the Sieur 
 Giraud had suffered, would have followed him blindly. 
 
 However, even as the Sieur Giraud spoke so de- 
 cidedly, Tite came running through the wood toward 
 them. He stopped short as he caught sight of them, and 
 cried : 
 
 " Marcelle ! Where is Marcelle ? " 
 
 Neither made any reply, but he saw that they knew 
 not. 
 
 " The devil, if ever she should be here, 'tis now ! 
 Those rogues have got whatever they've been waiting 
 for and they're moving up the valley fast. Andre and 
 a dozen others all bring the same report, and they'll be 
 on us within the half of an hour." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Let them come ; it matters little to us," he said 
 coldly. " To say the truth, Tite, we want no more to do 
 with any of your affairs here. While I have been with 
 
 208
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 you I have paid my way, methinks, in as hard work as 
 any of the rest ; but that is over." 
 
 Tite looked hard at them. 
 
 " And are you of the same mind ? " he asked Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles. " By my faith, if so, you are as shifting 
 as a wench, for not long ago you were bawling for a fight 
 like any bravo." 
 
 " Ay, and so I would fight now were there aught to 
 lend inducement," was the answer ; " but since the Lady 
 Agathe has gone, consume me if I'll risk my life for the 
 mere pleasure of your company ! " 
 
 " The Lady Agathe gone ! " exclaimed Tite. 
 
 " Ay ; since Marcelle was good enough to free her 
 she has shaken this cursed spot and chosen a safer one 
 in Dinant, whither we follow her," replied the Sieur 
 Giraud, and, indeed, he did think that the Lady Agathe 
 had gone of her own will. 
 
 " Dinant ! So 'tis a woman's kirtle that would per- 
 suade you hence when you are most needed ! " growled 
 the old man. " Oh, I know what you would say what 
 you have said you two are not of us ; it matters naught 
 to you if we be cut up by these fiends from over the river. 
 I know all that ; but, by St. Hubert, ne'er did I think to 
 see either of you run from a fight! But go go! Let 
 me not keep you; only little of Dinant will you see this 
 night." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 They asked it together. 
 
 " Because by now those others hold the mouth of the 
 valley yonder," cried Tite. " Try that way and you'll 
 have reason drilled into you with a cloth-yard shaft." 
 
 " Bah ! then we'll go round them by the ridges, old 
 Whitehead ! " said Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 " To find the gates of Dinant shut by the time you 
 209
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 come before them, fool," answered Tite shortly. " And 
 mark you, you can count on one hand, with two fingers 
 to spare, those to whom those gates will be opened after 
 nightfall." 
 
 There was truth in what he said; the Sieur Giraud 
 had not been with this band so long without knowing 
 that for himself. Yet in his haste he had not thought of 
 it before. The three stood in silence; but at length the 
 Sieur Giraud spoke quietly. 
 
 " Since 'tis forced upon us, we will stay." And then 
 suddenly he drew himself up. " And since we stay we 
 will make something of it. By all the saints, stand mum- 
 bling there no longer, old man ; but get you gone to as- 
 semble the men! Let one of them start the smudge 
 signal to those still in the hills ; and do you bring every 
 living being that can bear a bow to the foot of the hill 
 yonder, where we left your precious horses. We'll wait 
 not for their attack, but meet these curs on their way. 
 So move your stiff old legs as ne'er they moved 
 before!" 
 
 This was the man that Tite knew, and instead of 
 taking offence at the words, he chuckled softly and 
 made off. 
 
 As the others departed toward their quarters, Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles shot a quizzical look at the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Spite of the devil, I am not so grieved at the out- 
 come. It's to be bow and shaft, then?" he said. 
 
 " Ay ; and cut and thrust as well, this time, methinks, 
 for 'twill come to close quarters," answered the Sieur 
 Giraud ; and added, " for which the saints be praised, for 
 I, too, am in fit mood for it, monsieur ! " 
 
 And, in truth, the lust of combat was strong upon 
 him. There is naught that will turn man into such en- 
 raged beast, save being tricked as he had been that day. 
 
 210
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 As they hurried through the wood a great column of 
 black smoke arose from behind the camp. Tite had lost 
 no time in setting the signal. Everywhere men were now 
 flitting through the trees, scattering in all directions to 
 their burrows to augment their supplies of shafts, or 
 bend a fresh string to their bows. Many of them also 
 armed themselves with axes or the hammers which, made 
 for the peaceful hammering of brass, now with length- 
 ened handle became formidable weapons. Here and 
 there one might be seen shouldering a pike, some relic 
 of former strife about the walls of Bouvignes. Alto- 
 gether, they were a nondescript rabble and scarce likely 
 to dispute the way with any trained force they might en- 
 counter, though they would give good enough account 
 of themselves against these other outlaws they went to 
 meet. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud and Monsieur Vignolles hastened 
 to Tite's den, took therefrom the saddles and harness, 
 and, running down the hill, quickly had them in place on 
 the horses. That done, they mounted, and riding in a 
 circuit round the hill ascended it from the side farthest 
 from the approaching foe. In a spot completely hedged 
 in with undergrowth and half-way up the slope they 
 secured the beasts to trees. Here, at least, they would be 
 safe from stray shots, and both these men were trained 
 to think of their mounts before themselves. As for Tite, 
 he could not have sat a saddle had his life depended upon 
 doing it, and they gave him no thought. Then they 
 separated, and, hastening to their respective quarters, 
 arrayed themselves for the fray. 
 
 When they again met at the base of the hill, both 
 wore coats of mail beneath their tunics and had resumed 
 their swords. These the Sieur Giraud had never been 
 deprived of, but hitherto he had had no occasion for their 
 
 211
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 use. Long bows and belts full of shafts completed their 
 equipment. 
 
 Already they found some two-score of the band as- 
 sembled, and not one of these was there who looked not 
 to the Sieur Giraud for direction. Among the motley 
 gathering the two women, Ulrique Cadet and Celie Le- 
 spere, with some others, moved about scattering coarse 
 gibes in their wakes, but heartening the men by their very 
 dare-devil manner. Each bore a bow with a practised 
 hand, and the shafts beneath their arms seemed scarcely 
 out of place. They were more men than women. Mar- 
 celle appeared not among them. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud quickly made his arrangements. A 
 half-score under Andre he sent hurrying down the valley 
 to meet the enemy. Tite, with a score more, he threw 
 along the sides of the ravine to catch them in flank when 
 Andre and his men should be forced back ; and the main 
 body he posted behind trees in the line the enemy must 
 take in approaching the camp. That done, he sat down 
 and waited, conversing in low tones with Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles. 
 
 As they so sat, there was a sharp rustle in the brush 
 behind them, and they spun round to see Marcelle stand- 
 ing there, her face and dress smeared with dirt and her 
 hair tumbling in confusion about her ears. Neither had 
 heard her approach, and she seemed to have dropped 
 upon them from the branches above. 
 
 " I I was in the wood far away and knew naught 
 of this till I saw the smoke," she gasped. :f They are 
 close upon us ; I saw some of them as I came along the 
 ridge yonder." 
 
 She pointed upward with her bow, and both men 
 noted that, despite her excitement, her hand was steady 
 enough. 
 
 212
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 " Then you will hear from Andre ere long," said the 
 Sieur Giraud drily. 
 
 " The Lady Agathe has has gone to Dinant. She 
 will be safe whatever happens," stammered Marcelle, 
 looking down the valley. 
 
 " I know ; I am glad," he answered, and then coldly 
 and without a glance in her direction, " It may hearten 
 the men if you show yourself among them." 
 
 He pointed toward the figures half-hidden among the 
 trees, and it was too plain a dismissal to be passed over. 
 It had come to this, then: that she, the leader of this 
 band, not only should not lead it, but even in the face of 
 the enemy should suffer such affront. Others had tried 
 such tactics to their cost, and was this man then to dic- 
 tate to her with impunity? No she would yes, she 
 would ; but not this time. 
 
 With the meekness of a saint, yet with the hot blood 
 high in her cheeks, she turned and walked toward the 
 others. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles's gaze had never left her face, 
 and now he pursed his lips in wonderment. In that brief 
 moment his eyes had been opened largely; but he was 
 ageing rapidly, and with age was growing the impression 
 that the affairs of Monsieur Vignolles were all that he 
 could swing comfortably. Moreover, the next moment 
 there were other things to claim his attention, for even 
 as he caught the subdued hum of welcome with which 
 the band greeted Marcelle, a spent arrow flicked through 
 the trees and fell between him and the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 Both hastened to take cover, and in a moment more 
 Andre and his men came falling back doggedly on the 
 main force not all of them who had set forth down the 
 valley, in truth, for three of their number had met winged 
 death yonder. 
 
 213
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 But even as the shafts fell thicker and thicker about 
 them, there came a sudden pause in the swift advance of 
 the foe. Tite had waited until they were well between 
 his two forces, and now, from both sides of the ravine 
 at only forty paces range, let fly such a cloud of arrows 
 as wellnigh to throw them into a panic. Till that mo- 
 ment the fight had gone on in a strange, weird silence, 
 neither side having any mind to expose its position ; but 
 now sharp cries and groans came from the wood as some 
 well-directed shaft found its mark. So near was the 
 enemy now that their shadowy figures could be seen as 
 they dodged from tree to tree in their efforts to find 
 shelter against this new attack upon their flanks. 
 
 " Ha ! For a man of trade, old Whitehead has much 
 to commend him ! " said Monsieur Vignolles. " They'll 
 not stand the tune he is playing them for long." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud did not answer. His great yew 
 bow was bent till his right hand grazed his ear, and the 
 next moment the string slapped smartly against his 
 buckskin arm-guard. Three-score paces distant a prowl- 
 ing figure leaped with a wild cry into the air and came 
 heavily to earth, a shaft well through his middle. 
 
 " By my faith, an Englishman himself could have 
 done no better," said Monsieur Vignolles drily, and 
 peered forth from behind his tree for similar opportunity. 
 
 " You spoke naught but the truth in saying they 
 would not stand Tite's offering long ! " exclaimed the 
 other, fitting a fresh horned notch to his string. " They 
 are breaking now. Oh, for a little more light, and few 
 of these curs would ever leave this ravine ! " 
 
 He sprang into the open, heedless of the random 
 shafts that flew about him. 
 
 " And now, you knaves, out from your cover and at 
 them! " he roared, and, followed by Monsieur Vignolles, 
 
 214
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 rushed forward, pausing to shoot whenever a fair mark 
 showed itself. 
 
 The band was quick to take up the cry and followed 
 close upon his heels. 
 
 And now a veritable pandemonium raged in the 
 woods where these outlaws fought. The hoarse, mad 
 curses of pursuer and pursued ; the exulting cries of 
 savagery as some well-sped arrow laid an adversary low ; 
 the gasping moans of the stricken ; all punctuated jerkily 
 with the sharp twang of bow-string or the heavy thud 
 of point against tree, served for the time to render the 
 gulch a veritable hell. Yet, with it all, the actual loss of 
 life was small as compared to the number engaged, for 
 these vagabonds were far from being skilled bowmen, 
 and, in the turmoil, the random shaft found its victim 
 nearly as often as the aimed one. 
 
 One arrow point did the Sieur Giraud receive full on 
 the chest, but it barely penetrated his mail. Monsieur 
 Vignolles, less fortunate, was struck a grazing blow on 
 the head, the shaft speeding on with his cap and leaving 
 behind it a jagged wound from which the blood poured 
 freely over his face. But the enemy had had more than 
 enough, and waited not to come to close quarters with 
 their assailants. A round dozen of their men were on 
 the ground, and of those afoot, many had been hit. With 
 one accord they fled down the gulch, and the air was full 
 of arrows behind them, and close after followed the Sieur 
 Giraud and his shouting company. For this time he 
 meant to deal them such blow as they should never re- 
 cover from, and the fever of killing was full upon him. 
 
 As he plunged forward he became conscious of a 
 small figure running beside him. It was Marcelle 
 Marcelle as he had first seen her, pitiless, untamed, and 
 with the fierce joy of combat in her eyes. Tite, too, now 
 
 215
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 fell in with them, moving swiftly despite his years, and 
 with him came Poncet and Moise, who, returning from 
 Dinant, had found the fight in full fling. 
 
 And then ahead of them they saw a wild confusion 
 among those they hunted ; and an instant later, with mad 
 shouting these had broken the line of their flight and fled 
 up the sides of the gorge. Darkness was now almost full 
 upon the wood, and they melted into the heavy shadows 
 like so many phantom shapes. 
 
 Ere the Sieur Giraud and the others had time to 
 fathom this sudden move, there rose up before them, as 
 from the ground, a blurred mass. A moment later a vol- 
 ley of shafts seemed fairly to rend them asunder. The 
 Sieur Giraud felt a sharp sting in the shoulder and the 
 warm blood trickling down beneath his armpit; Moise 
 flung up his hands and sunk with a great sigh, first to his 
 knees and then prone upon his face ; and all about groans 
 and oaths told of others struck. 
 
 " Ambushed, by all the saints, and well have they led 
 us into the trap ! " cried Monsieur Vignolles, and slipped 
 behind a tree. 
 
 " Ay ; and they have chosen their time well," replied 
 the Sieur Giraud bitterly. " Scarce two shafts apiece 
 have we left." 
 
 And, in truth, they had not been sparing of missiles, 
 deeming them of small use if they came to close quarters. 
 
 " So be it ! " replied Monsieur Vignolles. " What we 
 have we will send where they will be appreciated." And 
 with that he let fly in the direction of the approaching 
 company. 
 
 But they came on steadily, seeming to care little for 
 the ill-directed shafts sent at them, and, in truth, now it 
 was too dark for the most expert bowman to hold with 
 certainty. Their first volley had been so terribly effective 
 
 216
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 only because it had been discharged into the rushing mass 
 of men whom they met. 
 
 " We must fall back toward the camp," said the Sieur 
 Giraud in a moment, for now it was his own followers 
 who were threatened with panic. Nearly a score of their 
 number laid low at one volley had shaken them. 
 
 As he spoke he felt a touch on the arm and turned to 
 find Marcelle standing beside him. 
 
 " Look ! " she cried, holding an arrow forth for his 
 inspection. " Ne'er was such shaft made in the Forest 
 of Ardennes." 
 
 He took it from her quickly and passed it through his 
 fingers from goose-feathered butt to brazed and steeled 
 head. Then he gave a sharp cry and, thoughtless of the 
 danger of exposing himself, leaned forward from the 
 tree's shadow and strained his gaze upon the bit of metal. 
 Yes ; there it was, the mark that his fingers had felt 
 two crossed arrows within a shield and the letter M be- 
 neath. Even in the gathering gloom he could make it 
 out clearly enough. 
 
 " It glanced against me from yonder tree, else would 
 I have noted it not," said Marcelle. " Know you then 
 whom these be who now meet us ? " 
 
 " Ay, and think not we have to deal longer with any 
 vagabond band," answered the Sieur Giraud, while Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles leaped to his side at the words. " The 
 stamp on this arrow-head is that of old Moret, armourer 
 to the Count de Charolais's archers of the guard. By 
 my faith, methought such discharge wondrous for these 
 rogues ! " 
 
 He turned quickly and passed the word for falling 
 back upon the camp. 
 
 " The archers of the guard ! May the saints pre- 
 serve me, for I bent bow against them ! " muttered Mon- 
 
 217
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 sieur Vignolles, as they silently picked their way from 
 cover to cover. " Yet they will hang us higher than any 
 of these thieves if they lay hands on us. What go you 
 to do, Sieur Giraud ? " 
 
 " Get to the horses and make off if we may," was the 
 answer. " If not we shall know how to die, Monsieur 
 Vignolles." 
 
 The archers, proceeding cautiously at first, now find- 
 ing no foe before them, quickened their pace and forced 
 the Companions to do likewise. Occasionally they sent 
 an arrow whirring through the darkness after them ; but 
 for the most part they had given over the use of the bow, 
 and depended now on the two-handed swords they wore 
 when they should come up with their quarry. 
 
 Marcelle hung closely between the Sieur Giraud and 
 Monsieur Vignolles as they ran. 
 
 " Poncet and another have gone ahead to fetch more 
 arrows," she cried breathlessly. " We shall beat them off 
 once we come to the hill." 
 
 " Speak for yourself and the others," answered the 
 Sieur Giraud coldly. 
 
 " But you you will help you must help now ; you 
 and Monsieur Vignolles." 
 
 " Neither he nor I will draw bow or sword against 
 the Count de Charolais," he answered, and wondered 
 why it was the light seemed now to be growing stronger 
 and why he could catch her expression of amazement. 
 
 "And what, then, intend you?" she asked. 
 
 " To get as far as may be from this devil's abode, 
 and spend the rest of our days in cursing the hour that 
 e'er saw us come here ! " put in Monsieur Vignolles. 
 " As for myself, I am of one mind with the Sieur Giraud. 
 We will not fight against the Count de Charolais." 
 
 " They will hang you," she gasped. 
 218
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 " They have not caught us as yet, and if they do " 
 
 "Fire!" 
 
 The word burst from the Sieur Giraud, and he 
 stretched his hand upward toward the hill, conscious at 
 the same time of a stiffening of his shoulder where he 
 had been hit. 
 
 Sure enough ; far on the summit was a blaze rapidly 
 swelling in volume. Some sparks from the smudge- 
 signal Tite had set had been wafted into the under- 
 growth, and this, dryer than any tinder from the sum- 
 mer's sun, had sprung alight instantly. Now that whole 
 part of the forest was a roaring mass of flame, and its 
 angry crackle carried even to their ears. This, then, ex- 
 plained the growing light the Sieur Giraud had noticed. 
 
 A great cheer broke from those behind them. Here 
 was the very light that would render archery of some 
 avail. As the light flared more and more strongly, cast- 
 ing great black and distorted shadows through the trees, 
 again the rain of shafts came hurtling among the Com- 
 panions. Ever and anon one fell to rise no more, but 
 the rest pressed on, a disorganised, terror-stricken rabble 
 with never a thought for the fallen. 
 
 At last they came to the base of the hill, and here 
 Poncet awaited them with a great bundle of arrows. 
 Yet they would have torn past him in their flight had 
 not Marcelle sprang upon a rock and madly called upon 
 them to stand. She stood in full light and a dozen 
 arrows sung round her, yet she passed unscathed, and 
 her very example served to hearten them. With loud 
 curses they fell upon the shafts and took up their old 
 places behind the trees. But they had lost too many; 
 the real fighting spirit was gone from the band and they 
 drew bow in faint-hearted fashion, and ever with an eye 
 to the rear. 
 
 15 219
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Though but one thing was uppermost in the mind of 
 the Sieur Giraud the fear that the horses would be 
 stampeded by the fire he found himself held a moment 
 by the gruesome picture. And of a sudden, as he tarried 
 there, the forest rang with the wild swinging chorus of 
 the archers: 
 
 Then ho, for the Forest of Ardennes! 
 
 And a curse on the knaves that are free! 
 
 The bow-strings are twanging and soon they'll be hanging 
 
 To rot on the uppermost tree. 
 
 Ha! Ha! On the uppermost tree. 
 
 As they roared forth the last line they rushed from 
 their cover, casting aside their bows and drawing their 
 two-handed swords, their blades flashing fire in the red 
 glare. Two of them pitched forward, one by Tite's 
 hand, and had the rest of the Companions held as firmly, 
 the archers, despite their contempt for their adversaries, 
 must have paid heavily for their temerity. But the 
 menace of death was before them in that gleaming steel 
 and they turned and fled up the hill with the archers in 
 full cry after them. And God help those who stum- 
 bled or were overtaken, for the licking blades knew no 
 pity! 
 
 The Sieur Giraud and Monsieur Vignolles had 
 pressed forward a little into the wood and the seething 
 torrent swept past, leaving them apparently unnoticed. 
 
 Marcelle had disappeared, borne away somewhere on 
 the flood. 
 
 " Come, monsieur ; now for the horses ! " exclaimed 
 the Sieur Giraud, and with that the two set forth up the 
 gorge away from the shouting, maddened horde. 
 
 And now they ran, with all the speed they might sum- 
 mon, obliquely up the hill toward where they had left 
 
 220
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 the beasts. But as they panted onward their hearts grew 
 heavy with the doubt that is almost certainty, for the 
 crackling of the burning wood seemed very near and the 
 air was full of pitchy smoke that came ever thicker and 
 more chokingly. 
 
 Their fears were not ungrounded, for, even as they 
 came breathless upon the spot, a great, trampled gap 
 in the hedge of brush told where the terrified brutes had 
 passed through. Within the circle, from one tree, hung 
 the parted end of a rein, and from another the entire 
 bridle which one of the beasts had torn entire from his 
 head. 
 
 Ere either might speak the brush parted suddenly and 
 Marcelle came upon them. Tears streamed from her 
 eyes, and she threw herself prostrate before them, sob- 
 bing aloud. 
 
 " Oh, God forbid that e'er again I should see such 
 sights ! " she cried. " Those with whom I have lived, 
 talked, ay, jested, to see them butchered like so many 
 fowls for the table! And Ulrique Cadet a woman 
 not even her would they spare Ah ! " 
 
 She shuddered and seemed trying to repel something 
 from before her eyes. 
 
 " You knew the horses were here ? " cried the Sieur 
 Giraud. " You came to " 
 
 " Ay, I knew they were here and that it could only 
 have been you who had such forethought," she broke in. 
 " I saw them as I entered to join you below, before the 
 fight commenced." 
 
 " Entered ? Entered what ? " asked Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles ; but before she might answer a heavy step came 
 crashing through the thicket, and a burly form burst 
 hurriedly into their midst. 
 
 It was none other than Captain Chaubran. 
 
 221
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " In the name of Monseigneur the Duke of Burgundy, 
 I call upon you to yield, Sieur Giraud d'Orson, and you, 
 Monsieur Vignolles ! " he cried, and raised his sword to 
 give emphasis to his words. 
 
 Marcelle sprang to her feet, and he started, for he 
 had not noticed her before. 
 
 " Yield not to this man ! " she muttered to the Sieur 
 Giraud. " I can save you ; I swear it ! " 
 
 " And the mad wench of the Ardennes ! " cried Chau- 
 bran. " By my faith, my bag fattens. The devil's chase 
 did you two lead me up the hill ; but methought to recog- 
 nise you, and now I ani more than repaid." 
 
 He gave a loud halloo as he ended, and it was an- 
 swered by many voices from the direction of the camp. 
 
 " Would you stand there to be taken thus ? " cried 
 Marcelle in a low tone. " I tell you I will save you, even 
 as you once did me ! " 
 
 But neither of these men had any view to being so 
 seized. They would not bear arms against the Count 
 de Charolais, it was true; but this affair with Captain 
 Chaubran came too near being a personal matter to give 
 them any scruples. By their capture and certain death 
 would he gain advancement and reward. Yet the an- 
 swering cries had warned them that there was no time 
 for sword-play and its uncertainties. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud unslung his sword-belt, and, 
 striding to Chaubran, dropped the weapon at his feet. 
 
 " I have seen too well to-day what you can do, cap- 
 tain," he said quietly. 
 
 Marcelle moaned and Monsieur Vignolles cursed 
 aloud, but Chaubran smiled patronisingly. 
 
 " I am glad to see that the hills have not robbed you 
 of common-sense, Sieur Giraud," he said. " Such task 
 as this is no pleasant one for me, I assure you, for once 
 
 222
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 a comrade, always a comrade, say I. But we may not 
 choose our own work." 
 
 He lowered his point and half bowed. 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles will see the same advantage in 
 yielding, I make no " 
 
 The hands of the Sieur Giraud closed about his 
 throat with the grip of a vice, and the rest of his speech 
 became a gurgling sigh. A few moments he struggled ; 
 then, with a last twitch of the limbs, lay quite still. 
 Seizing him by feet and head, the two men threw him 
 heavily into the brush, wherein he sunk from view. 
 
 The shouting of those who came in answer to Chau- 
 bran's halloo was now very near. Marcelle plucked the 
 two by their sleeves. 
 
 " Come ! " she said, and they followed her quickly, 
 the Sieur Giraud only pausing to recover his sword. 
 
 At the far side of the little compound where the 
 horses had been left she parted the undergrowth very 
 gently, and, on her lowering her foot, they heard the 
 soft splash of water. 
 
 " A stream ! " exclaimed Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 " No ; a spring," she replied. " Follow me," and 
 with that she disappeared from view, and the brush 
 closed over where she had stood. 
 
 They made haste to comply, both going over ankle 
 in the cold water of the spring, and then, on feeling for 
 their next footing, they understood where they were, for 
 the way descended precipitously. They were feeling 
 their way along a great gash that nature had at one 
 time or another torn in the hillside. Under their feet 
 trickled the water from the fountain-head above, and a 
 rank underbrush, sure of a never-ending supply of drink, 
 had sprung up along this tiny stream. As they crawled 
 along in the wake of Marcelle they were as completely 
 
 223
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 shut in as though the hand of man had built their roof. 
 From without, this narrow cleft would pass unnoticed, 
 being blocked with such a matted tangle of growth. 
 
 They had been none too soon, for ere they had 
 travelled thirty paces the shouts of the archers came to 
 them from above. They would find Chaubran, and if 
 he was not dead and the Sieur Giraud knew not they 
 would set to scouring the wood for them. Unless one 
 of their number should fall into the spring, it was scarce 
 likely they would look in the right direction. 
 
 The way was stony and productive of much cutting 
 of the hands, and they were forced to descend slowly 
 and fairly clear each step before them. But at length 
 Marcelle stopped and signalled them to be quiet; then, 
 after listening a moment, worked her way through the 
 brush ahead, and stepped forth into the open. They 
 followed immediately, and found themselves at the pre- 
 cise spot where Marcelle had appeared to them before 
 the fray began. Now they both recalled the soiled state 
 of her face and attire, and her sudden appearance as 
 from the branches above. 
 
 " 'Tis a way I found myself," whispered Marcelle, 
 her face glowing in the flaring light of the fire above. 
 " None other of the band knows of it ; and now come ; 
 we must away down the valley while they are are occu- 
 pied above." 
 
 She shuddered again as she said this last. 
 
 " Down the valley ? " said the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 "Ay, for we go to Dinant. 'Tis our only refuge 
 now," she answered. 
 
 " But the gates will be closed," said Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles. 
 
 "They will open to me," was the reply; and with- 
 out further word she led the two men through the 
 
 224
 
 THE STAMP OF MORET THE ARMOURER 
 
 forest, now lurid with the glow from the great furnace 
 above. 
 
 They followed her as they would have followed one 
 they trusted implicitly ; yet both believed that she would 
 hesitate indeed, had hesitated at naught to gain her 
 ends, even to the shedding of blood. Why they now 
 put faith in her neither could have told. 
 
 So, at last, they came before the great gates of 
 Dinant, and here rose up to greet them Tite, who wept 
 copious tears into his beard at sight of Marcelle, and 
 Poncet Meux, who neither wept nor laughed, but rocked 
 himself in moody silence upon the ground. 
 
 Then Marcelle went to the barrier, and, after some 
 moments, the guard came in answer to her call. In 
 turn, he called the officer in charge, who delayed only 
 to assure himself that it was indeed Marcelle who asked 
 admittance. A moment later, with much creaking, the 
 great bridge descended and the gates ponderously swung 
 open before them. 
 
 In truth, these people of Dinant held Marcelle in 
 high regard. So thought Monsieur Vignolles as they 
 entered this surviving band of five and the gates 
 again closed behind them. 
 
 " Heaven bless the child ! " muttered Tite, and his 
 eyes shone moist in the light of the guard lantern. 
 
 As for the Sieur Giraud, he was thinking how close 
 it all had been, and his hand shook ever so slightly, for 
 its fingers still seemed to feel the stamp of Moret the 
 Armourer. 
 
 225
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 IN THE MARKET-PLACE 
 
 FIVE-SCORE men, thrown out of prosperous em- 
 ployment and subjected to all the discontent 
 that idleness breeds, may become a dangerous 
 factor in any peaceful community. Increase 
 their number to a thousand, and the resulting disorder 
 will be made greater by much more than the tenfold 
 expansion the mere figures indicate. Multiply this 
 thousand by a half-score, do away with all attempt at 
 law and order, and raise the price of a crust to that 
 formerly asked for a loaf, and there will have been 
 created a veritable Hades on earth. 
 
 Also, there will be had a fair appreciation of condi- 
 tions within the town of Dinant, for in her rambling 
 streets wellnigh a half-score thousand wretches idled, 
 caroused, quarrelled, and fought as the mood seized 
 them or opportunity offered. These had preferred re- 
 maining in the town to joining the roving bands of 
 Liegeoise in the hills; but from them, as well as from 
 the Companions of the Green Tent, had all sense of 
 right and wrong long since departed. Thieving, beg- 
 gary, and murder had replaced all thrift, and any man's 
 life could be had for the mere pittance which might serve 
 to ward off starvation. 
 
 Yet scarce a year before the towering limestone cliff 
 yonder had looked down upon a vastly different scene 
 in the town nestling at its base. Great forge-fires then 
 
 226
 
 IN THE MARKET-PLACE 
 
 had shot columns of heavy smoke aloft, and by night 
 had emitted a red glow which, reflected in the sky, was 
 visible many leagues distant. The clamour of thousands 
 of hammers upon brass had rung loudly in an air 
 teeming with the very essence of industry, and the 
 streets had thronged with those intent only on their 
 callings. 
 
 Nor was it strange that the people of Dinant should 
 have felt a species of pride in the great industry they 
 had built up. Did a church lack baptismal font, or re- 
 quire intricately wrought organ-screen, was it not to the 
 copper-artisans of Dinant that it turned when other 
 workers had admitted their inability to cope with such 
 designs? If their brass- founders were known chiefly 
 for their output of mere kitchen utensils, nevertheless 
 such fame was widespread, and the worth of this Dinan- 
 derie, as it was known, was acknowledged, not only in 
 Europe, but in England, across the sea. Moreover, 
 because of her thrift, Dinant had been admitted to the 
 privileges of the great Hanseatic League, and so had 
 no need to fear for her markets. Therefore the people 
 had a great commercial pride, and, in truth, this is one 
 of the most promising forms pride may assume. 
 
 Such had been one of the towns the Bishop of Liege 
 had seen fit to ruin, and now the better element in the 
 town was throttled by the ruthless hands of the outlaws 
 he had created, and scarce dared speak their views above 
 a whisper. Marcelle's ready admission within the walls 
 was a proof of this, for, indeed, among the roisterers 
 who held the town, her name was held in high favour. 
 That a semblance of order was preserved in the guard 
 at the gates was due merely to a sense of self-interest. 
 
 As the guard finally left them and entered his small 
 box-like quarters, Marcelle turned to the others. 
 
 227
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Go to the house of Madame Vaucler," she said. 
 " Tite, you know the way thither. Tell her of what we 
 have passed through, and and tell her that that An- 
 dre will come home no more." 
 
 " I know ; did I not see him go down on the very 
 crest of the hill when, in another moment, he would 
 have been safe away ? " answered Tite soberly. 
 
 Marcelle drew a purse from her bosom and took 
 therefrom some pieces of gold, which she handed Tite. 
 
 " Say that none of us might do aught to help An- 
 dre," she said, " and give this gold to Madame Vaucler. 
 For it she will house you while you are here, for God 
 knows the poor soul can have little enough to keep the 
 very life within her. Ay, it is indeed your gold or, 
 rather, the constable's I spend so freely, Monsieur 
 Vignolles," she added, and held up the purse so that 
 he recognised it as the one he had given up. 
 
 " Faith, I had forgotten that e'er I possessed such 
 sum," said Monsieur Vignolles drily. " You will retain 
 it, I make no doubt." 
 
 " You are wise, Monsieur Vignolles ; I shall retain 
 it; but only for a short time," she answered, and thrust 
 the purse again from view. " I have other debts debts 
 that gold may do as little toward paying to meet here 
 in Dinant. Madame Vaucler is but one." 
 
 She was thinking of those others to whom she came 
 as a messenger of torturing grief. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles bowed. 
 
 " Even were the sum mine own and not my lord's," 
 he said, " you should have it willingly for the service 
 you have this night done me." 
 
 " I thank you," she answered simply, and added, 
 " At all events I must away and not rest idling here. 
 Have a care how you speak of who and what you are, 
 
 228
 
 IN THE MARKET-PLACE 
 
 and put aside the mail I see you both wear beneath your 
 tunics. Tite and Poncet here you may trust; but some 
 others of the band, if they ever reach the town, might 
 have less scruple about exposing you." 
 
 She turned on her heel and would have made off, 
 but the Sieur Giraud suddenly roused himself and 
 caught her by the sleeve ere she had made two paces. 
 
 "And you, Marcelle; whither go you?" he asked. 
 
 " I have said that I had my errands errands I 
 would to God fell not upon me ! " she answered, and 
 her great eyes met his, so that he saw the tears well 
 into them. 
 
 A moment he was silent, and looked at her earnestly ; 
 then he spoke, but seemed not to be addressing her, but 
 some other listener. Yet withal his voice was so low 
 that she barely caught the words. 
 
 " Which which is the true Marcelle the mad fury 
 of this morning or she whom I see to-night ? " 
 
 " There there is but one Marcelle," she answered, 
 and felt herself trembling at his touch upon her arm. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Tell me not so, for ever before my eyes glide the 
 two figures the one hateful, the other gentle and 
 good and full of compassion. Which is the true 
 Marcelle?" 
 
 She turned her head from him for an instant, then 
 as quickly faced him with the look of a stag at bay. 
 
 " In pity's name, torture me not in this fashion ! " 
 she cried. " I I know not what I am, nor whither I 
 am going, nor does it matter. Something something 
 is fighting within me and tearing me to pieces here 
 here, do you understand? Ah, let me go; I I must be 
 alone ! " 
 
 She clutched her breast, as though she so would 
 229
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 still the raging there, and her words came with such 
 passionate force that he released his hold of her sleeve. 
 
 Ere she might move, Monsieur Vignolles hastily 
 came to them. 
 
 " The Lady Agathe is in Dinant," he said quickly. 
 " Know you where she is housed, Marcelle ? " 
 
 Both of his hearers started; Marcelle, because she 
 had hoped to avoid such inquiry in the excitement of 
 the hour; the Sieur Giraud, because it suddenly struck 
 him as strange that the first thought of the Lady Agathe 
 should come from Monsieur Vignolles. This was little 
 short of recreant on his part, and he hastened to make 
 amends. 
 
 " Ay, Marcelle, if you know, inform us where she 
 may be found," he said eagerly. " Perchance we may 
 now be of small service to her; yet it may please her, 
 in this strange place, to learn that we are here, should 
 she require us." 
 
 " The Lady Agathe is here, and safe-housed enough ; 
 yet you may not venture where she is lodged," answered 
 Marcelle, after a pause. " There she is known for the 
 lady she is ; but, vagabonds though we are, we make war 
 not upon women, as does the Count de Charolais. But 
 were you to be seen asking after her, 'twould be short 
 shrift with you." 
 
 " How know you so much of all this ? " exclaimed 
 the Sieur Giraud. " Was it you, then, who sent the 
 Lady Agathe hither you who provided for her safety 
 and arranged for her reception ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Marcelle ; and then, because she 
 was irritated by his half-approving tone, " So would I 
 have sent the other women, had they not been of some 
 service to us. The Lady Agathe could do naught save 
 be a hindrance ; therefore, I sent her to Dinant." 
 
 230
 
 IN THE MARKET-PLACE 
 
 She was wondering, as she spoke, what they would 
 say did they suspect her real reason in so disposing of the 
 Lady Agathe. 
 
 " And when may we see my lady ? " asked Monsieur 
 Vignolles. 
 
 Marcelle looked at him sharply. Again she seemed 
 to see more than a mere chivalrous interest in this man's 
 concern for the Lady Agathe. Some day the truth re- 
 garding the Sieur Giraud would come to my lady's ears ; 
 even Marcelle could not hope to prevent that for ever. 
 Then Monsieur Vignolles, if he did cherish any affec- 
 tion for her, soon would learn how hopeless was his 
 suit. 
 
 Marcelle smiled bitterly at this thought as she an- 
 swered : 
 
 " I know not. On the morrow I will make some 
 arrangement, if I may. Petite Maman shall -bring you 
 word." 
 
 " Petite Maman is with my lady ? " said the Sieur 
 Giraud. 
 
 " Yes, to attend to such wants as may arise ; she and 
 Bonne Fleuron as well. And now, adieu; I have work 
 before me." 
 
 With a wave of the hand to Tite and Poncet, she 
 set out up the street and disappeared around the first 
 turning. 
 
 Poncet Meux had caught that part of the talk con- 
 cerning the whereabouts of the Lady Agathe, and had 
 he so been disposed could have answered those inquiries 
 himself. In fact, now that Moiise lay dead yonder in the 
 valley, he alone save for the two women held the 
 secret with Marcelle. But Poncet had a long memory, 
 and he still brooded over a blow the Sieur Giraud once 
 had struck him for naught save a little pleasantry on his 
 
 231
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 part. No; these two could find out for themselves, 
 since it was so important. 
 
 Tite led the way rapidly through the back streets; 
 yet even here many people were afoot, watching the 
 glare of the forest fire. At last he entered a gateway 
 on whose posts hung no gate, and, the others following, 
 crossed a dishevelled patch of ground and brought up 
 before the door of Madame Vaucler's abode. It flew 
 open ere Tite could knock, and the old woman appeared 
 to confront them, having heard their approaching steps. 
 
 It is needless to recount the scene that ensued, and 
 will suffice to say that after a heart-rending interval, 
 during which the woman's suffering caused them all to 
 turn away, she threw open to them such hospitality as 
 her humble abode afforded. This consisted of but one 
 room, that of the ill-fated Andre; but anything in the 
 shape of a lodging was only too welcome. 
 
 In the first instance, Tite, whose utility knew no 
 bounds, set himself to dress the wounds of the Sieur 
 Giraud and Monsieur Vignolles. The former, thanks to 
 his protective coat of mail, was but lightly touched, 
 though he had bled copiously. The latter's wound was 
 an uglier matter, and over it Tite spent considerable time, 
 finally binding it up in cloths soaked in some herb 
 infusion the woman brought him. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles's eyes were of unnatural bril- 
 liancy, and his face of chalky whiteness, for, in truth, 
 he had lost more blood than the other, yet his flow of 
 spirits was not sapped. 
 
 " By all the saints ! if my Lord the Constable should 
 set eyes on me now, methinks he'd find much joy in the 
 sight ! " he said, and passed his hand over his bandages. 
 " We shall take rank as the first brawlers of the town 
 on the morrow." 
 
 232
 
 IN THE MARKET-PLACE 
 
 " Which should be good passports," answered the 
 Sieur Giraud with a laugh, as both men shed their steel 
 casings and flung them with their swords into the cor- 
 ner nearest the bed. 
 
 Madame Vaucler had departed into the streets, but 
 soon returned with a baked fowl, the half of a loaf of 
 bread, and two flagons of wine, which the magic gold 
 Tite had given her had brought forth even in this hungry 
 town. Small fare it was for these wearied men; but 
 they divided it in silence and made quick end of it. 
 That done, they threw themselves on the coarse blankets 
 which madame spread upon the floor all save Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles, whom Tite swore must have the one 
 small bed and almost before the door had been closed 
 upon them their heavy breathing filled the room. 
 
 Such slumber as that of these four worn and jaded 
 men takes no account of the passage of time, and 
 Madame Vaucler, looking in upon them, when the fol- 
 lowing morning had half spent itself, found them still 
 sleeping as though some potent drug had been mixed 
 with their wine. Had it not been needful, she would 
 not have waked them, for within her was a great under- 
 standing of what they had suffered ; and, then, had they 
 not been comrades of Andre her own Andre now for 
 ever gone out of her life ? But she was left no choice in 
 the matter. 
 
 Picking her way across the little room, she knelt and 
 shook Tite till, after a series of snorts, and what passed 
 for a growl, he sat up and stared at her with some show 
 of intelligence. 
 
 " The devil ! the sun is well up ! " he exclaimed, and 
 his tone seemed to indicate that he took it ill enough 
 that that celestial body so should have anticipated him. 
 
 233
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Ay, and has been up these five hours," replied 
 Madame Vaucler ; " but that's neither here nor there. 
 Petite Maman has just been here with a message to you 
 from Marcelle; the saints preserve the dear! She has 
 gone forth into the hills again to learn if any be left 
 of the band." 
 
 Tite leaped to his feet, active enough now. 
 
 " Into the hills ! Alone ! " he cried. " Thousand 
 follies! The child may fall in with yet no; those 
 fiends, having done their work, will have taken them- 
 selves off to Namur again. Why did Marcelle not speak 
 of this purpose last night ? " 
 
 The old man glared at Madame Vaucler as though 
 she alone were answerable for this new move of Mar- 
 celle's. 
 
 " In any case, 'tis no place for Tite here, while she 
 alone goes to the camp," he added quickly. " Poncet ! 
 Poncet! do you bestir your lazy self; we must again to 
 the forest ! " 
 
 So saying, he kicked that worthy into an upright 
 position. The Sieur Giraud and the other turned un- 
 easily at the noise he made, but still slept on. 
 
 " Not so fast, Tite," said the woman in a low voice. 
 " Marcelle also charges you and Poncet to remain here 
 with these other two. Methinks she would have an eye 
 kept upon them. And she bids you, by the love you 
 bear her, to say naught to them of the whereabouts of 
 some woman called Agathe, till her return. 'Tis no right 
 of mine to pry into Marcelle's affairs; but who is this 
 Agathe?" 
 
 " You have woman's reason," answered Tite ; " but 
 since 'tis none of your affair, look not for answer to 
 the question you ask in the same breath. So I'm to stay 
 here to nurse these two great hulking babes. Well, per- 
 
 234
 
 IN THE MARKET-PLACE 
 
 chance, Marcelle is right, and they'll bear the watching," 
 he went on to Poncet, " though, by my faith, I believe 
 the time past when they would try any tricks. However, 
 'tis clear that Marcelle means to keep the fine lady close 
 enough, and 'tis not for us to seek for the reason." 
 
 Thus it was that some moments later the other two, 
 on awakening, found this fresh predicament facing them, 
 and realised that the Lady Agathe was as far from 
 them as though they were still in the hills. Had they 
 believed that either Tite or Poncet knew what they so 
 ardently sought to learn, it is probable they might have 
 forced the information from the latter; but, alas! they 
 thought the secret alone held by Marcelle. Yet there 
 was a ray of hope, for she had said that the women 
 Petite Maman and Bonne Fleuron were with the Lady 
 Agathe. While they were sure that the latter would not 
 venture into the turbulent streets, it was more than prob- 
 able that one of the others might do so, and once seen, 
 there would remain but to follow her home to discover 
 the Lady Agathe's lodging. 
 
 Their long rest had restored them greatly, and 
 though Monsieur Vignolles's head still ached consum- 
 edly, he would not hear of being left behind when the 
 Sieur Giraud, after their meagre repast, rose and threw 
 on his sword. Willingly would they have shaken Tite, 
 but he showed not the least intention of leaving them, 
 and so the three together fared forth into the streets. 
 
 Poncet made off by himself. His father, the vine- 
 grower, had come into the town that morning, bringing 
 his spouse and such of his household treasures as might 
 find place upon their backs. It was growing too warm 
 for the old couple in the vicinity of the Great Bald Knoll. 
 They preferred Dinant with all its turmoil ; and Poncet, 
 hearing of their arrival from Madame Vaucler, whose 
 16 235
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 range of gossip was extensive, went to find them where 
 they lodged. 
 
 Tite's companionship, though irksome, had its ad- 
 vantages. The others soon recognised this as they made 
 their way through the crowded streets, for the man 
 seemed on speaking terms with quite half the people 
 they met. Hence, though they were strangers, they were 
 not subjected to any suspicious questioning, since the 
 fact that they were with so ardent an outlaw as Tite 
 was sufficient passport. Moreover, this day things of 
 greater moment absorbed the unruly throng. 
 
 Over the distant hills still hung a dense pall of black 
 smoke ; but the fire had swept onward through the Ar- 
 dennes wood, away from Dinant, to die out, no man 
 might say where and when. But for this as well the 
 mob now had no heed. 
 
 The magistrates mad, in truth, they must have been 
 terrified by the threats the Count de Charolais had 
 hurled at their heads, had made a last despairing effort 
 to avert the town's impending doom. They had that 
 morning caused to be seized the ringleaders of the 
 rabble which had cast the bastard effigy of Count 
 Charles over the walls of Bouvignes ; all, save the man 
 Gaspard Lenoir, whom they could not lay hands on. 
 At the hour of eleven these prisoners were to be taken 
 before the magistrates in the town-hall. 
 
 This Tite communicated to his two companions as 
 they neared the market-place, through which the cap- 
 tives must pass and whither the crowd was tending 
 in one great, heaving swell. The very fact that a last 
 weak attempt at law and order was being made, that 
 the magistrates so would cringe before the hated foe 
 of Burgundy, served to enrage the frenzied populace. 
 The roaring from thousands of throats made of the 
 
 236
 
 IN THE MARKET-PLACE 
 
 market-place a perfect bedlam ; but this, as the hands 
 of the town-hall clock neared the hour of eleven, be- 
 came lessened to a murmur and then died away to si- 
 lence an ominous silence it was, coming from such a 
 gathering. 
 
 And now the Sieur Giraud and the others could catch 
 the whispered utterances that passed sullenly from one 
 to another. For the most part, the temper of the rab- 
 ble was for seizing the prisoners ; but there were many 
 who hesitated not to heap curses upon them, as the 
 great cause of the fate that menaced the town. One, 
 in truth, went so far as to bemoan the fact that Gas- 
 pard Lenoir himself had not been taken. Yet but a 
 fortnight before they had hailed this achievement of the 
 effigy and its inventor with joyous approval ; but then 
 they were in the minority, and, in any case, one looks 
 not for reason in a mob. Decidedly, though, there was 
 an element in this gathering that the man Lenoir would 
 do well to avoid. 
 
 The first stroke of the great bell calling the hour 
 fell suddenly upon the air. Instantly the crowd surged 
 forward, and, at the same moment, the gates of the little 
 prison opposite the town-hall opened. 
 
 A score of town-guards the last on whom the mag- 
 istrates might depend issued forth, and, thrusting the 
 people back with their pikes, formed about the half- 
 dozen wretches who followed them. As they set forth 
 across the square a low, ugly murmur again arose, yet 
 the gathering seemed to lack either the stimulus or the 
 leader for the move they intended. 
 
 For the former, they had not long to wait, for, even 
 as the procession came to the very centre of the square, 
 one of the prisoners a tall, long-haired individual, threw 
 his hands aloft with a shrill cry: 
 
 237
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 "Franchises! Franchises pour Dinant! Ausecours! 
 Au secours!" 
 
 ("Freedom! Civil freedom for Dinant! Help! 
 Help!") 
 
 The cry acted on the mob like a goad. With a 
 hoarse bellowing it swarmed over the market-place ; 
 the pikemen were tossed aside as so much chaff, or 
 beaten to the ground, and the prisoners shouldered on 
 high and borne about the square in a thunder of shouting. 
 
 The magistrates, looking down upon the scene from 
 the windows of the town-hall, shook their heads sol- 
 emnly and, with all haste, fled by the back way. 
 
 In the whirling press of bodies Monsieur Vignolles 
 found himself swept away from his companions and 
 thrown out upon the surging border of the multitude. 
 A half-drunken rioter lurched against him and trod 
 heavily upon his toes, and was rewarded with a blow 
 that wellnigh upset him. With a curse, he gathered 
 himself and savagely made at Monsieur Vignolles ; but 
 the latter stayed not to argue, and fled incontinently 
 through the crowd. 
 
 For his eye had been caught by something familiar 
 in the figure of a woman who was making her way 
 from the square. A moment later she had turned her 
 head and he had recognised Petite Maman. Then, mak- 
 ing his way with all speed after her, he had been swal- 
 lowed up in the seething horde about him. 
 
 His would-be assailant scowled after him. 
 
 " And such hie ! such milksops as that may hie ! 
 may wear swords ! " he said, and sneered with the 
 air of a conqueror. 
 
 238
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 FOR some time, in their struggles to keep their 
 own footing in the heaving tumult about them, 
 neither the Sieur Giraud nor Tite noticed the 
 disappearance of their companion. When they 
 did so, it is an open question which was the more per- 
 turbed. To Tite, it meant that he had allowed one of 
 his charges to slip his observation; to the Sieur Giraud, 
 it brought the fear that, in his weak state, the press 
 had proved too great for Monsieur Vignolles, and he 
 had been trampled under foot. 
 
 The square, however, now was rapidly emptying it- 
 self into the streets leading to it, for the rabble, having 
 fulfilled its mission of defiance, was now noisily escorting 
 the rescued to their respective domiciles. In a few mo- 
 ments it was clear that Monsieur Vignolles was not 
 numbered among the fallen. Three or four of the pike- 
 men, an equal number of their assailants, and a dozen 
 or more women and children were among those who, 
 after this outbreak, rose or were borne away by friends ; 
 but there was no sign of him for whom the Sieur Giraud 
 searched with such eager dread. 
 
 " Small fear need you have of that," Tite said in 
 answer to the Sieur Giraud's expressed concern. " Faith, 
 the man was not the same this morning that he was last 
 night! If he found the press too much for him, he'd 
 get out of it, as indeed he has. We'll find him at 
 Madame Vaucler's, I'll be sworn." 
 
 239
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I make no doubt you are right, Tite," answered 
 the other ; " and since 'tis so, let us return there our- 
 selves, for perchance the old woman has managed some 
 food by now, and after such wretched fare as this 
 morning's " 
 
 " Ay, you could eat again and so could I," cut in 
 Tite ; " but think not 'tis Madame Vaucler you may look 
 to for easing the cravings of your belly. Such day as 
 this, you may be sure she has thought but for Andre 
 yonder; nor would she have provided such fare as she 
 did, save that I forced it upon her mind. Yet, despair 
 not. Fool would I have been to have handed her all 
 the gold Marcelle gave me, for I foresaw this very case. 
 Come with me. 'Tis not a long walk to a place I know 
 where we may quiet this gnawing." 
 
 He held his fist under the other's eyes and, opening it 
 quickly, displayed a couple of gold crowns. 
 
 " Enough to feed three-score of ordinary," he 
 chuckled. " Methinks we shall have something left of it, 
 even at famine prices ; but come, for the talk of it fairly 
 tickles my inwards." 
 
 With that, he rapidly led the Sieur Giraud up one 
 of the streets and, after sundry turnings, stopped before 
 a certain door. By reason of a sign swinging over it, 
 whereon a huntsman was portrayed in the act of spear- 
 ing a melancholy and faded wild boar, and by reason 
 of the loud talk coming through the door, the Sieur 
 Giraud knew the place for an inn. Otherwise it was 
 outwardly at least in all respects like the neighbouring 
 houses, and evidently had been transformed but recently. 
 With all the assurance of a man of wealth, Tite shoved 
 open the door and entered, followed by the other. From 
 a narrow hallway they turned directly into the one great 
 room the house now boasted below stairs. 
 
 240
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 Here were gathered about a score men and women 
 drinking over the little tables scattered about the floor 
 for thus, the price of drink will be found, even when 
 the crust so much more needed is reckoned unattainable. 
 The landlord, a soft-spoken, quiet man, moved smilingly 
 about attending to the wants of his patrons. His trade 
 still thrived, despite the general misery of the town, and 
 he could afford to spare a pleasing word here and there. 
 
 As Tite and the Sieur Giraud made their way to a 
 table in one corner, some of the gathering looked up to 
 growl a rough greeting to the former. But, for the most 
 part, they were taken up with the discussion of the 
 events of the morning. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud, on entering, had feared that his 
 sword might lead to some questioning; but he quickly 
 saw that such concern was needless, since three or four 
 others sported the same weapon, and a miscellaneous 
 pile of pikes, war-hammers, and morning-stars occupied 
 one corner. In truth, these people were preparing be- 
 times for the fray before them. 
 
 Tite summoned the landlord and, first showing a 
 gold piece as warrant for the order, bade him prepare 
 a capon with its attendant dishes, and serve it with two 
 flagons of his best wine in a separate room. For, in 
 truth, Tite had some scruple about making such a meal 
 in this half-starved company. While this was preparing, 
 he ordered that a small flagon be brought to give them 
 appetite. The talk about them ran fast and furious. 
 
 " Ay, and what we did for the pikemen yonder, 
 we'll do for this cursed Charlotel and his army ! " cried 
 one great bearded ruffian, getting his voice above the 
 others. " You know what you may look for if ever 
 he gets within these walls ; yet there be those that coun- 
 sel submission to the Burgundians." 
 
 241
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Yet not so many by three, since yester morn ! " 
 screamed a woman with a harsh laugh. " Ha ! Me- 
 thinks you'll have no such counsel from those tongues 
 yonder on the walls with a pike-end pinning them 
 fast." 
 
 This allusion to the fate of three moderate citizens 
 who had been beheaded as holding treasonable views 
 brought forth a storm of approval, and a great clinking 
 of cups and flashing of eyes in her direction. She had 
 omitted to state that for refusing to say a mass in 
 celebration of this deed two holy men had been cast into 
 the river. Indeed, it was a time for men of reason to 
 dissemble. 
 
 " I hear the army of Charlotel is nigh ready to move 
 on us," cried a young man angrily. 
 
 " He was my 'prentice in the old days," whispered 
 Tite, nudging his companion. 
 
 " Let them come ! " roared the one who had first 
 spoken. " I tell you King Louis is only waiting till 
 they make the first move, to come to our aid. We have 
 but to stand firm and Charlotel will find himself caught 
 between the two of us. But wait. To-night you will 
 hear all this from Gaspard Lenoir, for he has been north 
 and knows King Louis's plan. Let every one be before 
 the town-hall to-night at the hour of eight." 
 
 " And how know you so much where Lenoir keeps 
 himself, since the magistrates might not lay hands on 
 him ? " asked one. 
 
 " Fool, were I a magistrate, no more would I 
 know ! " was the answer ; and the speaker tapped his 
 forehead shrewdly. " Does the cock pheasant lie in the 
 open that the first fox may pick him up? No! But 
 that's ended now ; the magistrates are the ones in hiding, 
 and the word is passed. Lenoir will speak from the 
 
 242
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 steps of the town-hall to-night. I have seen him, and 
 have the word from his own lips." 
 
 Whatever the man's other qualities, he must have 
 been given to uttering the truth, for none disputed his 
 word. Instead, there arose much shouting and hammer- 
 ing of the tables. It was evident that Lenoir held a 
 place high in their affections. 
 
 " Yet, methinks, had not this youth Lenoir steeled 
 the very heart of Count Charles against us, all might 
 have been well." 
 
 It was an old man who so spoke, and his gray hairs 
 alone saved him from the wrath of the more violent. 
 However, the Sieur Giraud saw a number exchange 
 meaning glances and nod as though in accord with what 
 he said. Above the loud chorus of calls to throw the 
 old man into the street, the bearded one again made 
 himself heard. 
 
 " Old man," he cried, " we like not your sentiment ; 
 nor is there any other name than Charlotel that rings 
 true in this town. Were it not that your speech be- 
 trays the folly of age, you should have good cause to 
 know this. Perchance yon other gray-head in the cor- 
 ner holds similar views." 
 
 He pointed a deriding finger at Tite, who, seeing 
 that he was becoming the focus of all eyes, rose to his 
 feet. 
 
 "If you mean me, Jacques Rochet, you know my 
 name well enough," he said quietly. 
 
 " Well, Tite," answered the man somewhat discon- 
 certed, " we all know where your heart is. How name 
 you the Burgundian fiend, Count Charles or Charlotel? 
 And speak aloud, that this other may have it from one 
 of his own age." 
 
 Tite folded his arms slowly. 
 243
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " It all depends," he said, and his eyes shone hard 
 upon the man Rochet from under their shaggy brows. 
 
 There was a general shuffling of feet and many 
 angry looks were shot at him. He paid them not the 
 slightest heed. 
 
 " It all depends," he went on slowly. "If some fool 
 like you, Jacques whom I have taken across my knee 
 many times when you would have meddled with my 
 forge, and not many years ago at that if such a fool 
 ask the question, thinking to have sport with me, then 
 shall he have the answer. I say Count Charles de 
 Charolais." 
 
 " Do you hear that, comrades ? Tite himself " 
 began Rochet with great bluster. 
 
 " Yes, they heard, never fear," broke in Tite ; " but 
 the truth is, they know us for what we are. They know 
 that, left to myself, I'd shout Charlotel with the best 
 of them, and that you, left to yourself, and with no 
 chance of making a show, wouldn't shout anything. 
 You've grown a good bit of hair, and 'tis well you have, 
 for it serves to cover as dirty a face as there is in 
 Dinant. You make sport of me, Jacques Rochet. Ha! 
 Come on, then, and see how you fare." 
 
 The challenge thus thrown in his teeth, the other's 
 blustering air subsided suddenly. Despite his size, he 
 was a craven at heart, and, moreover, was well aware 
 of the corded muscle beneath Tite's leathern jerkin. 
 Therefore he said sullenly: 
 
 " Ha ! You, too, would play upon the white hairs 
 that " 
 
 But here a great roar of laughter shook the air, and 
 there were loud cries of " Tite ! Tite ! " and many up- 
 liftings of beakers in his direction. 
 
 Through it all the Sieur Giraud had sat silently lis- 
 244
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 tening and waiting for the onset on Tite he felt sure 
 would come. His hand had fallen upon his hilt, for 
 he found a growing liking for this old man arising within 
 him, and would have surely taken his part. As Tite 
 again sat down beside him, he felt constrained to mur- 
 mur: 
 
 "Well played, Tite!" 
 
 " You'll hear no more from him ; the wind is out of 
 him for a while," answered Tite grimly; and as he did 
 so the landlord approached and whispered that the re- 
 past was ready in a room up-stairs. They rose and fol- 
 lowed him, Tite coming in for much banter as they 
 left the room. 
 
 Hungry men are but little given to talk, and the 
 two scarce exchanged a word till they had disposed 
 of the repast the landlord set before them. At length 
 the Sieur Giraud lay back in his chair and spoke with 
 much feeling. 
 
 " The saints bless you, Tite ; 'tis the first proper meal 
 I have seen this fortnight ! " he said thankfully, and 
 added with some compunction, " Yet I would that 
 Monsieur Vignolles were here to share with us." 
 
 " Mayhap he'll stick closer by us another time," an- 
 swered Tite grimly. 
 
 From the room below came loud shouting, in which 
 the name Lenoir was repeated again and again. Evi- 
 dently the gathering were toasting his renown. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud leaned his elbows on the table and 
 seemed much interested. 
 
 " Tite, who is this Gaspard Lenoir ? " he asked. 
 " By my faith, some right have I to ask, since through 
 a lying tale of him I wellnigh lost my life." 
 
 " The devil ! And in what way could you be con- 
 cerned with him?" asked Tite with some suspicion. 
 
 245
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 For some reason the Sieur Giraud gave him no di- 
 rect answer, but laughed bitterly. 
 
 " "Pis of small consequence, save to myself, now that 
 the affair is over," he said ; " but, Tite, you draw too long 
 a bow when you show such fearful distrust of a man 
 reduced to my state. However, if you choose not to 
 answer such simple question, have your way, for to 
 argue with such stubborn bull-head as you are is a 
 folly I'd ne'er essay." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud's purposely careless tone had its 
 expected effect upon Tite. 
 
 " Faith, speak not of my having any fear of aught 
 you can do even were you so disposed," he answered. 
 " Once, maybe, you, like all the rest of them at Namur, 
 would have given much to lay hands on this Gaspard 
 Lenoir, but you know what such attempt would mean 
 to you now." 
 
 He paused and, by pantomime, graphically illustrated 
 the dismemberment of his own body, which the other 
 noted in grim silence. Then he went on: 
 
 " I said naught of not answering your question, and 
 'twas you who accorded none to my own. Howsomever, 
 that's no affair of mine, since you are the Sieur Giraud 
 and I only Tite, the outlaw; and so, probably, it shall 
 remain to the end of time. What I know of Gaspard 
 Lenoir is easy enough told you. A sixmonth ago it was 
 he came here from Liege. An old woman who lives in 
 a hovel in the Rue Basse, close under the western wall, 
 gives him shelter when he is in Dinant; but he's abroad 
 much of the time. A strange sort is that old wench, by 
 my faith ! " 
 
 " Perchance 'tis some kin of his," said the Sieur 
 Giraud. 
 
 " Nay, for she's been known here for years," an- 
 246
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 swered Tite. " Tis said that she was once one of a band 
 of minstrels and mummers at the court of Charles VII. ; 
 but saints! she has become but a witch now, and devil 
 a man or woman is there in Dinant but crosses the street 
 before her hut for fear of the evil eye." 
 
 " Yet the man seems well enough known here," said 
 the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Did you once hear him speak, then would you have 
 small wonder at that," answered Tite, " though, by my 
 faith, he is little more than a lad in years. Being much 
 in the hills, ne'er have I heard him, but 'tis said his tirade 
 against the Burgundians is such that none may listen 
 unmoved, and certain it is that the people here fair take 
 pattern after what he says." 
 
 " Tite," said the Sieur Giraud suddenly, " a great 
 longing has come over me to see this man Lenoir, on 
 whose head the Count de Charolais has set a price. It 
 is a curiosity born of considerable interest that prompts 
 me, so much so that methinks I will go to the town-hall 
 to-night." 
 
 " I had it in mind myself," answered Tite. 
 
 " Then it only remains to find Monsieur Vignolles, 
 since he would wish to be of the party," said the Sieur 
 Giraud. " Let us then to Madame Vaucler's, for 'tis 
 already long past mid-day." 
 
 With that they rose and, after Tite had quitted the 
 heavy score, betook themselves to their lodging. Madame 
 Vaucler had returned only a half-hour before ; but there 
 was no sign of Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 When the afternoon passed, and still he put in no 
 appearance, the Sieur Giraud became truly a prey to 
 fear for his safety, and even Tite betrayed some meas- 
 ure of anxiety. Therefore they again sallied forth to the 
 market-place, but there, as well as in the neighbouring 
 
 247
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 streets, their inquiries met with no success. The mere 
 fact that Monsieur Vignolles's head was swathed in ban- 
 dages was of small aid to them, since heads so bound 
 up were too common in Dinant to attract notice. One 
 man, in truth, they found who believed to have seen the 
 one they searched ; but naught did he know of whither 
 he had gone. So it was that at last they gave up the 
 search in despair and returned to their quarters ; but 
 Madame Vaucler had still no news of the missing one. 
 
 Under the light of the one guttering candle for 
 darkness had now settled upon the town they sat sul- 
 lenly down to their wretched evening meal, and for the 
 time, in their disappointment, all thought of Lenoir and 
 the town-hall had fled their minds. 
 
 Meanwhile the crowd was rapidly mustering in the 
 market-place, this time not the angry, roaring mob of 
 the morning, but a jesting and expectant throng that 
 took its crushing in all good-nature. The huge torches 
 which some of them bore sent their unsteady and dan- 
 cing glare over heads as closely packed as the bodies 
 beneath them would allow. Some there were who even 
 bawled snatches of song; others shouted in chorus some 
 vituperative or obscene doggerel, always having for 
 its mark the Count de Charolais. Yet the drawn and 
 misery-ridden faces of all these people gave the lie to 
 the hilarity they would have had appear, and their mood 
 was but a forced one. Real merriment rings true; but 
 this mock substitute jarred discordantly upon the ear as 
 a reckless makeshift for suffering. 
 
 And then with the first stroke of eight the great 
 doors of the town-hall flew back and the one they 
 awaited came forth and stood upon the steps above their 
 head. Behind him came a half-score vagabond towns- 
 men who had constituted themselves a committee to sup- 
 
 248
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 port the speaker. The town-hall itself had been in the 
 possession of the people since the untimely attempt of 
 the magistrates to enforce order. 
 
 The crowd rose to the man Lenoir with one great 
 cry of welcome, and he smiled and, leaning against a 
 pillar, waited till they should have done. 
 
 In truth, Tite had not been wrong in terming him 
 little more than a lad. Save for the dark and pointed 
 growth upon his upper lip, his face was devoid of hair, 
 and he could scarce have attained more than two and 
 a score years at the utmost. In figure he was small, 
 almost puny against the background of sturdy townsmen 
 who had escorted him. His dress was that of an arti- 
 san, from the heavy shoes and coarse hose to the leathern 
 jerkin half-hidden under the ample folds of his sleeveless 
 blouse. From beneath a small, round cap with leaden 
 ornament his dark hair fell straight to his shoulders. 
 
 Two or three times he made an effort to speak, only 
 to awaken another outburst of cheering; but at last he 
 suddenly stepped forward to the margin of the stone 
 whereon he stood and, with almost a petulant air, 
 stretched forth his hand. The tumult gradually died 
 away to a dead stillness. 
 
 " Men of Dinant " 
 
 His voice was almost shrill, so high had he pitched 
 it that it might carry well out among them; yet there 
 was a magnetic and clear quality in it that might go 
 far to explain the hold he had on his hearers. 
 
 " Ay, and women of Dinant as well," went on Lenoir, 
 " since what I have to say concerns you as much as any. 
 Full well I know you come not here to listen to such 
 poor speech as I might offer you, but to learn the truth 
 of what goes on to the north at Namur." 
 
 A low murmur of assent ran round the assem- 
 249
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 blage, and the sea of haggard faces looked up at him 
 eagerly. 
 
 " For over a month the Burgundians have been 
 gathering there, as you know," Lenoir continued, " and 
 now August has half run its course. Tis madness to 
 think the descent upon us will be long delayed ; nor will 
 it, indeed, since this very morning their army began 
 crossing the Meuse." 
 
 The utmost disorder followed on this announcement, 
 loud cries of " Let them come ! " mingling with wrathful 
 remonstrances against the interruption. When some 
 quiet again was obtained, Lenoir spoke rapidly. 
 
 " This means that in three to four days' time they 
 will be before the walls. Last night even some of them 
 fell upon a band of Companions yonder in the hills, 
 scarce a league distant, and butchered those they laid 
 hands on without mercy. This I learned as I came 
 through the hills to-day, and such was the fate of those 
 who followed Marcelle the Mad." 
 
 " Marcelle the Mad ! " 
 
 It came as one great horrified cry from the multitude, 
 and then silence. 
 
 "Ay, 'twas none other than her band that so suf- 
 fered; yet Marcelle herself was unhurt, so had I the 
 story." 
 
 " And so 'tis true ! " shouted a burly individual who, 
 by way of indicating some official post that he held, 
 wore a battered steel helmet far back upon his bullet- 
 head. " And so 'tis true, for with these eyes did I see 
 Marcelle pass out of the gates this morning." 
 
 " And so it is that with every step the Burgundians 
 take your danger increases tenfold," cried Lenoir. " And 
 what, men of Dinant, have you done to provide against 
 the evil day? Ne'er was there town easier of defence 
 
 250
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 than this. On one side, the river ; on the others, a wall 
 that no man among you may span with his arms, and 
 four-score towers to lend it added strength; what more 
 would you have had? By now you might have taken 
 such measures to arm and organise yourselves as would 
 have warranted you in despising those who set upon 
 you. But no ; rather must you take to brawling in the 
 street, to swilling strong drink that your misery might 
 be less plain, and now it is too late ! " 
 
 A moment the crowd hung silent at this scathing 
 rebuke; then one he was that Jacques Rochet who 
 had met with defeat at Tite's hands raised his great 
 voice on high. 
 
 " Too late ! What folly do you speak, Gaspard ? " 
 he cried. " If we have been idle, 'tis that King Louis 
 and the people of Liege will ne'er sit quiet while we 
 fight alone." 
 
 A storm of approval greeted this sally and many dark 
 and challenging looks shot toward Lenoir. This sort of 
 speech was not what they had come to hear. Yet the 
 man never flinched before them, but spoke even more 
 shrilly and with added vehemence. 
 
 " King Louis ! Such help as he may give you he in 
 Paris and you in Dinant that, in truth, you may expect. 
 I tell you I have talked with those who know his very 
 mind, and ne'er may you look to him for a single lance. 
 Among the Burgundian army is the Constable of France. 
 Think you he would be there were the king in the field 
 against him? As for the people of Liege, bah! They 
 are too much like yourselves too given to talk to be 
 reckoned on. If they ever move, 'twill be when all is 
 over. And now, listen to the message I bear you. Well 
 enough you know my hatred for all the House of Bur- 
 gundy; some of you, at least, followed me to the walls 
 17 251
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 of Bouvignes one night not so long ago. Well enough 
 you know my heart, and how I would rejoice seeing 
 those who march upon us overthrown and taught to 
 meddle not with our city so long as this world lasts." 
 
 A loud shout of assent, yet with a tentative note in 
 its depths, greeted this, and he went on quickly. 
 
 " You know that your interests are my interests, and 
 what I would advise you is what I deem best. There- 
 fore, I say to you, cast aside the veil of false hopes that 
 blinds you. You have chosen to idle and are but a rabble 
 against this score and ten thousand trained men who 
 approach. You we all of us, have had our fling at the 
 House of Burgundy, and now some of us must pay for 
 it, since the mass of you are but half men. Make such 
 peace as you may with them, and make it while there 
 still is time. This is the message I bring you I, Gaspard 
 Lenoir, who knows of what he speaks." 
 
 An instant of silence, and then a furious tumult en- 
 sued. " Betrayed ! Traitor ! Seize him ! " were some 
 of the cries prominent above the others. 
 
 " By God, 'twas not so long ago, as he says, that this 
 Gaspard was leading us boldly enough to Bouvignes ! " 
 roared Jacques Rochet, climbing upon the shoulders of 
 those in front that he might be seen. " And now he 
 prates of cringing before Charlotel, that he may wring 
 our necks one after the other." 
 
 " Fool, 'tis that I would save your lives, such as I 
 may," cried Lenoir. " Before, I, too, was blinded by 
 hatred of the Burgundians ; but I know death when I see 
 it looking me in the face. If I have erred, you have the 
 satisfaction of knowing I shall be the first to suffer." 
 
 " Ay, you the first, and who'd be the next ? " cried 
 Rochet, for it had become a duel between them. " Per- 
 chance you, Jean Raes ; or you, Guy Beaujeu ; or any one 
 
 252
 
 A MESSAGE FROM GASPARD LENOIR 
 
 of you others Charlotel might deem worthy of hanging. 
 Ha! You will like this, you good people, just when we 
 are ready to crumple the Burgundians. I tell you this 
 counsel is treason, whether it come from Gaspard Lenoir 
 or another ! " 
 
 A thunderous shout of acclamation broke forth, and 
 like a devouring wave, the crowd rolled toward the steps. 
 It was fortunate for Lenoir that those who had accom- 
 panied him thither were, for an instant, too stupefied 
 at this unlooked-for ending to make a move. It afforded 
 him time to dive within the open doorway back of him, 
 and flee for the little garden behind, which, in turn, by 
 a narrow gate gave upon the street. 
 
 Thus it was that the Sieur Giraud and Tite, who had 
 at last remembered their resolve to be present before the 
 town-hall, hurrying through this dark back street, came 
 into violent collision with Lenoir. The mishap upset that 
 worthy upon the pavement, but he quickly regained his 
 feet and made off, disappearing round the nearest corner. 
 
 The next moment the Sieur Giraud and Tite were en- 
 gulfed in the cursing, yelling mob that streamed from 
 the garden. Deeming it a personal attack, right nobly 
 did they strike out at such heads as came within reach, 
 and soon had widened the circle about them. Then, 
 having room, the Sieur Giraud got his sword free and 
 the pressing crowd fell back farther at sight of the ugly 
 steel and the way 'twas played. 
 
 Yet of a sudden the Sieur Giraud paused and his 
 point fell, and Tite, having disposed of one who would 
 have throttled him, looked at him in some wonder. The 
 crowd, seeing they had not to do with the one they 
 sought, passed headlong in both directions along the 
 street. 
 
 And still a moment longer the Sieur Giraud stood 
 253
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 motionless, for, in the darkness of the narrow way, for 
 one instant he had caught sight of a face that gave him 
 pause for thought the face of Crepin Brune. Then the 
 man had disappeared in full flight after Lenoir. Had he 
 been nearer, the Sieur Giraud would have struck him 
 down without mercy, for, besides his back reckoning to 
 settle, there was the chance of Crepin's exposing him as 
 a former Burgundian. This would be a death-warrant 
 in Dinant, as the Sieur Giraud knew only too well ; and 
 he breathed easier in the belief that the man either had 
 not seen him, or had failed to recognise him in the dark. 
 But, of course, there was always the morrow. 
 
 254
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOT's 
 
 FORTUNATE, indeed, had the Lady Agathe ac- 
 counted herself on learning what exterminating 
 calamity had overtaken the band with which, 
 for a short time, her life had been linked. At 
 first she had been inclined to protest against the breath- 
 less pace Poncet and Moiise urged upon the women ; but 
 their wisdom had struck her forcibly enough when she 
 and the other two were thrust through the already clos- 
 ing gates of Dinant. 
 
 Now that she knew what had occurred she could find 
 naught but admiration for the clever way the men had 
 managed to slip past the flank of the foe creeping up the 
 gorge. It was, therefore, not strange that she should 
 look on Marcelle as her preserver, and should listen with 
 rapt attention to her recital of what had taken place. 
 For it was direct to the house whither Petite Maman 
 had conducted the Lady Agathe that Marcelle had flown 
 on leaving the others at the gate. 
 
 Yet her stay had been much shorter than the Lady 
 Agathe would have desired, and after assuring herself 
 that the latter's wants were being met and leaving a few 
 pieces of gold with her, Marcelle had departed to return 
 only at a late hour when sheer fatigue had forbid any 
 further talk between them. 
 
 With the morning she was gone from the house, leav- 
 ing word that she had gone back into the hills, but would 
 
 255
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 return ere long. Her caution to remain close indoors 
 was lost on the Lady Agathe, who would not have 
 thought of venturing into the turbulent streets. No such 
 fear had Petite Maman, however. Disdaining the offer 
 of the widow Galiot, who lodged them, she had confi- 
 dently fared forth in search of supplies for the larder, 
 returning about noon greatly excited over the brawl in 
 the market-place. 
 
 Now the remains of the evening repast long since had 
 been cleared away, and Petite Maman had retired to the 
 kitchen where she mostly kept herself with Bonne Fleu- 
 ron and the widow Galiot. 
 
 In one of the other two rooms the Lady Agathe threw 
 herself upon her bed. Her gaze was fixed upon the dingy 
 ceiling, and again she went over in her mind what Mar- 
 celle had told her, and speculated as to the probable time 
 of her return, for, in truth, she now held this girl very 
 dear in her heart. 
 
 Of a sudden there came to her ears from the kitchen 
 sounds that brought her trembling to her feet a quick 
 scuffle, a hoarse exclamation in a man's voice, mingled 
 with the women's shrill outcries, the quick slam of a 
 door, and then a deafening din as though all there had 
 fallen to beating upon pans and kettles. Ere she might 
 move, Petite Maman came striding into the room, her 
 face hot, but triumphant. 
 
 " Now that we've got him safe, I don't mind telling 
 you ! " she cried, raising her voice above the clatter that 
 now came with added force through the open door. 
 
 " Got him ! What do you mean ? " gasped the Lady 
 Agathe. 
 
 " I mean none other than Master Busybody, who 
 must needs follow me home from the market-place this 
 noon," was the answer. " Faith, the fool thought I'd
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOTS 
 
 not know him with his head swaddled in rags; nor did 
 I, till my foot was on the very door-sill. However, he'll 
 do no one any hurt now, if such was his intent. I spoke 
 not of it before, for fear 'twould make you fret, which 
 Marcelle said was to be avoided." 
 
 " But who what " 
 
 A louder crash than ever mingled with the man's 
 muffled curses sent Petite Maman into a spasm of 
 laughter. 
 
 " Ha ! Tis he will know Dinanderie the next time 
 he sees it ! " she cried, and shook her brawny arm in de- 
 rision in the direction whence came the racket. 
 
 In truth, the man would gain some acquaintance with 
 this ware, since the widow Galiot, having been a dealer 
 therein in a small way, on trade becoming paralysed, had 
 stored her surplus stock in that very closet. 
 
 " All the afternoon has he been prowling about the 
 house, front and back, till he could make up his mind 
 which promised best," went on Petite Maman. " When 
 we saw him start for the kitchen we gave him free field 
 and an open window; the rest was a shove and a twist 
 of the door-battens. He scarce knows yet how he came 
 inside that closet." 
 
 She laughed long and immoderately. 
 
 "But who is this man?" cried the Lady Agathe 
 wildly. 
 
 Bonne Fleuron thrust her head through the door- 
 way. 
 
 " You'd best be ready to lend us a hand, Petite 
 Maman," she said. " The battens are coming loose and 
 he'll be out in a moment." 
 
 Indeed, the man had by now ceased his cursing and 
 devoted himself to straining at the door. Petite Maman 
 hitched her sleeves upward over the elbows and started 
 
 257
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 for the fray, yet she paused long enough to say to the 
 Lady Agathe: 
 
 " Who is the man ? Faith, you should know him 
 well enough, since 'tis for you he comes nosing round 
 here, methinks. 'Tis none other than the gay spark that 
 came with you the day Tite brought you to camp." 
 
 " Monsieur Vignolles ! " cried the Lady Agathe, and 
 even with her words the closet door fell outward with 
 a loud crash, and the man within shot over it into the 
 room. 
 
 In an instant the three women would have been upon 
 him, for they knew not the name of fear, but the Lady 
 Agathe had flown to the doorway. 
 
 " Stop ! " she cried in a tone that carried far with 
 these women. " I will answer for the man ; stand 
 away ! " 
 
 A moment they hesitated, then fell back a pace, so 
 that she stood face to face with the intruder. 
 
 It was, indeed, Monsieur Vignolles, but his general 
 aspect could hardly have passed as imposing. His 
 doublet had worked its way about his ears, and his face 
 was flushed with his efforts till it seemed fit to burst. 
 The handle of a brass kettle had caught upon his sword- 
 hilt and tilted the weapon the reverse way it was in- 
 tended to be worn, and about one ankle was a broad metal 
 cake-ring, through which he had unwittingly thrust his 
 foot. All this, taken with his bandaged head, served to 
 greatly heighten the effect his presence produced. 
 
 Without a word the Lady Agathe and he stood look- 
 ing at each other; then he scowled and tried to speak. 
 Twice he repeated this, but the words would not come, 
 and then, whether from something in the other's eye or 
 from his own predilection to make light of any mishap, 
 he kicked the ring from his foot and laughed aloud. 
 
 258
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOT'S 
 
 There was something so infectious in his sudden out- 
 burst of mirth and so ludicrous in the figure he pre- 
 sented that despite their hostile attitude the three women 
 involuntarily joined in his laughter. Even the Lady 
 Agathe smiled when her first shock at seeing his wounded 
 state had passed and his manner had given assurance 
 that his hurts, at all events, were not of a serious char- 
 acter. 
 
 However, this relapse was but momentary, for what- 
 ever views the Lady Agathe might hold regarding this 
 intruder, Petite Maman and the others had a most de- 
 cided notion as to the proper manner of dealing with him. 
 Therefore, as Monsieur Vignolles succeeded in disengag- 
 ing the kettle from his hilt and let it fall clattering to the 
 floor, Petite Marnan planted herself before him, arms 
 akimbo, and a menacing look in her eyes. 
 
 " And now, Master Meddler," she said, " before we 
 call in those from the street who will make short work 
 of you if I speak out what I know, we'd hear what 
 devilry you had in mind in following me here. Faith, 
 if 'twere not that I have heard you fought well yester- 
 day in the hills, I'd not give you this chance, for once 
 you were Burgundian, and for aught I know would still 
 play their tricks. Marcelle said she forbid you and the 
 other making any trial to spy out where we were." 
 
 " Have you ended, woman ? " asked Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles drily. " Then hear me for a moment. It was 
 last night that Marcelle imposed such caution. Had 
 she not gone to the hills suddenly she would have 
 arranged some way of our seeing the Lady Agathe 
 before now." 
 
 " So it was to spy your way to my lady that you 
 came ? " cried Petite Maman. 
 
 " My dear woman, did you have any thought 'twas 
 259
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 to gaze on your still fair but withering- charms?" re- 
 plied monsieur, including the three in his sweeping ges- 
 ture. " Beyond a doubt I did come to see the Lady 
 Agathe. And now, listen ; you've had your fill of sport, 
 thanks to my running fairly into your hands. In return, 
 give me a moment or two with the Lady Agathe. 
 Whether I was, or am, or will be, Burgundian, has 
 naught to do with the question which concerns her alone ; 
 that I swear to you." 
 
 The women burst into laughter. 
 
 " Oh, and is it so ; that is all you would ask ? " cried 
 Petite Maman. " 'Tis likely that we, being put here to 
 attend to my lady and to keep such as you from coming 
 near her, would take up with such scheme." 
 
 " I would hear what Monsieur Vignolles has to say 
 to me." 
 
 The Lady Agathe, as she spoke these words, stepped 
 forward among them. 
 
 " Since he has found his way hither 'tis no fault of 
 yours," she went on. " To speak of delivering him to 
 the people of the town as a Burgundian is folly, for had 
 Marcelle wished that she would have accomplished it 
 long ere this. As for any censure you may fear, I will 
 answer to her for that." 
 
 In truth, the Lady Agathe now believed her influence 
 over Marcelle very great. 
 
 " I have no liking for such business," grumbled 
 Petite Maman, " yet Marcelle did bid us pander to your 
 wishes, and faith, I see not the harm in a word or two 
 between lovers." 
 
 The Lady Agathe gasped. 
 
 " But it is not we are not " she stammered. 
 
 " You are blessed with discernment beyond the ordi- 
 nary," broke in Monsieur Vignolles, bowing suavely to 
 
 260
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOT'S 
 
 Petite Maman ; " for the Lady Agathe and I are lovers 
 lovers of the admirable common-sense you are beginning 
 to display. We have, then, your royal permission to 
 withdraw ? " 
 
 " I have no mind to spy upon you, if that's what you 
 mean," answered Petite Maman. " Since my lady will 
 have it so, I may say no more. The saints be praised, I 
 was ended with such nonsense years ago ! " 
 
 The Lady Agathe's face was crimson; but Monsieur 
 Vignolles seemed to take no note of it. 
 
 " The more's the pity," he said suavely, " yet 'tis said 
 that the very years which so cruelly despoil us of passion 
 do bring in its stead a placid erudition that renders the 
 loss of small moment. Such must be your reward, Petite 
 Maman." 
 
 The woman looked at him sharply; but his face 
 showed all seriousness and she waved him toward the 
 door. 
 
 He held it open till the Lady Agathe had passed 
 through, then followed, closing it behind him. After a 
 moment he again thrust it open smartly. As he had ex- 
 pected it came into violent contact with the head of 
 Petite Maman, which head had been inclined in listening 
 attitude on the other side. 
 
 " A thousand pardons," he exclaimed, as though he 
 made no note of the eavesdropping. " I merely returned 
 to say that as I have fasted since morning I would 
 esteem highly whate'er you might do to ease the craving 
 within me. In payment therefor I would offer you this 
 in lieu of proper coin." 
 
 He fumbled at his neck and drew forth by the at- 
 tached cord a golden medallion encased in leather. 
 
 " By my faith, it has the worth of two gold crowns," 
 cried Petite Maman, her eyes alight with greed. " Ay, 
 
 261
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 you shall have what we possess of food when your talk 
 shall be ended. Hand it over." 
 
 " That I will when I have received its value," he an- 
 swered, and coolly replaced it next his breast. " Two 
 gold crowns 'tis worth, as you say, and more ; yet for the 
 food I stand in greater need. Fear not, you shall have 
 it if you bestir yourselves." 
 
 With that he again closed the door and the scuffle of 
 feet told him that his wishes were being met. He turned 
 and, crossing to the front of the room, faced the Lady 
 Agathe. 
 
 " Close work, my lady," he said, and wiped a bead of 
 sweat from his brow. " Hang me, but methought at one 
 time they meant to turn me over to the canaille in the 
 streets. As it is they will give us but a moment and we 
 must speak quickly. You are closely watched here, my 
 lady?" 
 
 " What need of such precaution, monsieur, since I 
 have neither the mood nor the opportunity for flight ? " 
 she answered. 
 
 " Then the matter is simplified," he said with evident 
 relief. 
 
 His tone would have been less thankful had he known 
 that even at the moment the widow Galiot was stealing 
 stealthily out at the back and so round through the gar- 
 den to the street, down which she ran with all speed. 
 
 " What mean you, monsieur ? " asked the Lady 
 Agathe in some wonder. 
 
 " This, and this alone, my lady, that however much 
 we must bless Marcelle for having taken such measures 
 for your safety, this very refuge she has selected will 
 prove your undoing if you remain here. Nay, hear me 
 out! Dinant ere many days must become little better 
 than a hell, for the Burgundian army will move upon it 
 
 262
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOT'S 
 
 soon. Perchance even to-day they will take up the march. 
 You must leave here while there is yet time." 
 
 " Am I then ne'er to have any peace, monsieur ? " 
 cried the Lady Agathe, as the full significance of his 
 words fell upon her. " Against my will was I sent on the 
 road to Bruges ; against my will was I ordered here from 
 the hills though for that, in truth, I am grateful and 
 now you would have me leave Dinant, perchance to face 
 even worse fate. No, Monsieur Vignolles, I believe you 
 think only of serving me well; but I will not leave 
 Dinant." 
 
 " My lady, there can be no worse fate than for you 
 to remain here. You know not what a shambles this 
 town will become, once Count Charles gains entrance, 
 as he surely will, else would you be mad to speak thus. 
 For you to steal from this house will not be too difficult. 
 'Twas to give you opportunity that I arranged for food 
 with the women. While I make pretence of eating and 
 hold their minds, do you go forth by the front way. I 
 will wait till you have had time to gain the street back 
 of the garden, and then make a bolt over the wall by 
 the way I came. Before they can give the alarm we shall 
 be far enough away and lost in the crowd." 
 
 She seemed unmoved by what he said. 
 
 " No, monsieur. I thank you, but I see not what you 
 offer me better than my present state," she answered. 
 " In truth, you speak of freedom ; but what would you 
 suggest; that again I should roam the hills helpless and 
 alone?" 
 
 " My lady, you do me wrong," he said with some 
 dignity. " Since you would have such support as two 
 stout hearts could afford you. Ay, on the morrow, into 
 the hills you would go, 'tis true, but 'twould be on the 
 way to Dauphine, and an end of all your misfortune." 
 
 263
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Dauphine ! " 
 
 " Ay, Dauphine, my lady, for thither shall you go. 
 You have no choice but to trust to us. Have you heart 
 to remain here while Count Charles lays the walls in 
 dust and piles the dead thick upon such ruin? Have 
 you heart for what will follow once he enters, and for 
 your own capture as well? No, a thousand times no, 
 my lady, you cannot be so mad." 
 
 She shuddered. 
 
 " In pity's name, speak not of my falling into the 
 hands of Count Charles now," she cried. " Methinks 
 he'd have less mercy upon me than upon some of these 
 others." 
 
 " And for myself and the Sieur Giraud the question 
 is the same," he said. " Therefore " 
 
 She started suddenly. 
 
 " The Sieur Giraud ! He was, then, this other of 
 whom you spoke ? " she cried. " Sooner would I 
 trust " 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles stamped almost angrily upon the 
 floor. 
 
 " My Lady Agathe," he said sharply, " ne'er was 
 mortal more deceived than you have been! The Sieur 
 Giraud is as innocent of what you hold against him as 
 I am myself; that I swear. The whole affair at the 
 vine-grower's was the doing of one man, Crepin Brune, 
 and the Sieur Giraud was but tricked into seeming to 
 share in the conspiracy." 
 
 " The Sieur Giraud innocent ! " she gasped. " Yet 
 Marcelle ne'er said " 
 
 " If Marcelle let you believe in his guilt, 'twas from 
 some motive of her own," he answered impatiently; 
 " and methinks I begin to see reason in much I have 
 taken for madness in that quarter. Be that as it may, 
 
 264
 
 AT THE WIDOW GAL1OTS 
 
 I tell you the Sieur Giraud ne'er has swerved from 
 what a fair-minded man would do. God knows, 'tis 
 only chance that brings me here ahead of him, my 
 lady." 
 
 " If I have wronged him so, what can I say to him 
 that would condone such mistake," she said, half to 
 herself, " Yet why should Marcelle so mislead me? 
 Why " 
 
 She paused suddenly, and a moment stood looking 
 into Monsieur Vignolles's eyes. 
 
 " There is one thing that might induce a woman 
 to take such course," he said. " Methinks in this mo- 
 ment it has come to you jealousy, I mean." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " she gasped ; and then, as she ran 
 over in her mind what had gone before, she saw how 
 well such solution fitted Marcelle's every action. 
 
 " The the Sieur Giraud does he suspect this love 
 she bears him ? " asked the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " Methinks such thought ne'er has crossed his mind," 
 he answered ; " nor would it e'er have struck me, save 
 for a look I caught upon her face in the moment before 
 the fight at the camp. The Sieur Giraud thinks of you 
 alone, my lady." 
 
 " You, at least, are a good friend of the Sieur Giraud, 
 Monsieur Vignolles." 
 
 " I like the man, my lady," he answered, and added 
 with a smile, " and our tastes seem to run in the same 
 direction, perchance too much so for the peace of mind 
 of us both." 
 
 " I see not how such agreement of mind can lead to 
 aught but content," she said, and half turned from him. 
 
 " Yet if two men set their hearts on attaining the 
 same favour, one is doomed to disappointment in the 
 end, my lady," he answered. 
 
 265
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " But surely until that end each may be supported 
 by the hope of gaining what he desires/' said the Lady 
 Agathe in a low tone. 
 
 " Not when the prize is awarded in advance, my lady. 
 To cherish such hope or thought then would ill become 
 a man, to say naught of a friend." 
 
 " You take too much for granted, monsieur. Some 
 might call you faint-hearted, and with reason." 
 
 A moment her eyes met his, and then fell. 
 
 " By my faith, I would I knew whether you spoke of 
 the same thing I do ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 She smiled and again gave him a fleeting look. 
 
 " Would you so term me, monsieur ? Fie upon you 
 then; 'tis small gallantry you show." 
 
 He started forward. 
 
 " My lady, you knew 'twas of you I spoke and 
 and you bid me hope? Then you are not pledged to the 
 Sieur Giraud?" 
 
 For answer a twinkle came into her blue eyes, and 
 she curved her lips in a mocking pout. 
 
 " Again I seem to be riding the Bruges road," she 
 said slowly, and her gaze was far away, " and beside me 
 rides one whom they would force me to wed. Through 
 the gathering darkness of a storm his voice falls rail- 
 ingly on my ear, ' Wed myself? Not to the best lady in 
 the land, were she to beseech me thereto on bended knee ! 
 We shall get on better if we meet our punishment with 
 the proper spirit, my lady, and ' " 
 
 She might speak no more for the arms that closed 
 about her and the hand that gently came over her lips. 
 
 " My lady ! Agathe ! Taunt me not with what were 
 but the vapourings of a fool full of his own conceit," 
 cried Monsieur Vignolles. " Oh, Agathe, Agathe, is it 
 true ? Am I standing here holding you in my arms, dear, 
 
 266
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOT'S 
 
 or is this another of those wild dreams that have pos- 
 sejtsed me of late ? " 
 
 " Beyond a doubt you are so holding me, monsieur," 
 she gasped. 
 
 " Hilaire, dear heart Hilaire; the name no woman 
 e'er has given me, save my mother in far-away Lux- 
 embourg," he said, and kissed her. 
 
 Then he held her from him and assumed a serious air. 
 
 " And have I been such a blind fool long, Agathe ? 
 I'll be sworn you hated me that day we left Namur." 
 
 " It grieves me to say it, but I fear I did, Hilaire," 
 she answered. " Yet that very day saw the beginning 
 of the great love I bear you the beginning, I say, be- 
 cause such love may not spring up in a day." 
 
 " The beginning ; and when did this first come upon 
 you, Agathe ? " he asked softly. 
 
 " I may not be sure, Master Inquisitor," she replied, 
 " but methinks 'twas at the very moment you declared 
 you ne'er would wed me willingly; ay, and even spoke 
 contemptuously, as though you would gladly cast me 
 from you, if you might. Then I began to dread you less, 
 Hilaire, and see you for what you were." 
 
 "And the Sieur Giraud?" 
 
 " Hilaire, let us not speak of what might have been ! " 
 she said, and clasped her hands about his neck. " A 
 maid may love but once as I love you, dear; and I now 
 know that what I felt for him was but the great respect 
 a woman must feel for such a man. It breaks my heart 
 to think that he soon must know." 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles drew her to him. 
 
 " Yes, Agathe," he said with a touch of sadness in 
 his tone, " it will be a grievous blow to him, coming 
 after all that he has suffered; and pity 'tis that in this 
 fresh trial he should see me the gainer." 
 18 267
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " It may not be otherwise, Hilaire," she answered 
 softly ; " nor would you have it so, methinks." 
 
 He looked down into the eyes upturned to his and 
 kissed her again ; then spoke quickly. 
 
 "And now, Agathe, there is but to get away from 
 this house with all speed. Purposely, I waited till dark- 
 ness before venturing to enter, and now 'twill serve our 
 project well. First to see the Sieur Giraud, and then, for 
 to-night, we must find some refuge for you; but with 
 the dawn and the opening of the gates, we shall be gone. 
 You will go, Agathe ? " 
 
 " To the end of the world with you, now, dear," she 
 answered. " Methinks I should have gone, anyway." 
 
 " Once without the walls I shall breathe freer," he 
 said. " Anything is better than the thought of your 
 remaining in Dinant. Such things as you need gather 
 quickly, while I distract Petite Maman and the others. 
 The quarter of an hour should suffice you, and in that 
 time I will join you in the back street. Fly, Agathe ! " 
 
 With that he hastily embraced her, and stood watch- 
 ing till she had disappeared across the hall into the 
 other room. Then, with a triumphant air, he turned and 
 flung open the kitchen door. Within, it was as dark 
 as a pocket save for the feeble ray that came through 
 the door behind him, and the dull night-light that showed 
 dim through the window. In the opening of the latter 
 he made out the figure of Petite Maman. 
 
 Ere he could speak she hissed a sharp warning and 
 crossed softly to him, her hand on her lips. 
 
 " The devil has bewitched this house to-night," she 
 whispered, " for now some other is prowling about the 
 garden. 'Tis for that I put out the light. The others 
 are watching from the back gate. If you know aught 
 
 of who comes " 
 
 268
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOT'S 
 
 " Peace, woman ! " he said in a low tone ; " I came 
 alone, and believe that none other knows of my presence 
 here. You are sure some shadow has not alarmed you ? " 
 
 " Bah ! I am not one who is fearful of naught ! " she 
 muttered. " Come, then, yourself, and cast your gaze 
 beyond yonder elm." 
 
 So saying, she drew him softly to the window, and 
 even as she did so a thought suddenly struck him. 
 Might not the Sieur Giraud have discovered this house 
 for himself? If so, he, too, would so reconnoitre it be- 
 fore essaying an entrance. 
 
 Monsieur Vignolles thrust his head forth quickly and 
 peered into the gloom. 
 
 On the instant two forms rose out of the shrubs be- 
 neath the ledge, and four sinewy hands closed about his 
 throat. Without a sound he toppled head-foremost into 
 the garden, and four others coming to the aid of the 
 first two, he was quickly gagged and then borne away. 
 
 A moment one of his captors lingered to thrust his 
 head through the window. 
 
 " Well played, Petite Maman ! " he said hoarsely. 
 " Faith, I'm not sorry I saw you in the market-place this 
 morning, for this Burgundian is worth more than gold 
 to us, once Charlotel takes the town. Let me but lay 
 hands on the other in the same fashion." 
 
 " I know naught of the other, Crepin," answered the 
 woman. 
 
 " Nor do I now ; but I will ere long," growled Cre- 
 pin, for it was none other, " and he it is I must have, 
 since Charlotel would give his hand to seize him. Things 
 are coming to a head here, Petite Maman. To-night 
 they drove Gaspard Lenoir from the town-hall ay, 
 and would have had his life had they caught him, think 
 of that!" 
 
 269
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " And why that ? " asked the woman. 
 
 " Because he told them to make peace ; but I've no 
 time for more, woman. You know where word will 
 reach me at Jacques Rochet's, where you sent to- 
 night. Let me know if you hear of or see the Sieur 
 Giraud, and I'll make as fine a lady of you as walks. 
 Adieu! " 
 
 With that he melted into the darkness, and Petite 
 Maman turned to rejoin the other women who came in 
 from the garden. 
 
 " Small use did I ever have for Crepin Brune," she 
 said; "but so long as this does Marcelle no harm, 
 methinks 'twill prove a master-stroke for us. If any 
 women be spared by Charlotel, we'll be the ones. Cre- 
 pin's naught to please the eye; but he looks a long way 
 ahead." 
 
 With which shrewd observation the others agreed. 
 
 Even as Monsieur Vignolles was dragged so rudely 
 from the window, the Lady Agathe came from her room, 
 bearing a small bundle. She dreaded going forth into 
 the streets, and feared that her appearance might excite 
 some repulsive curiosity. Yet it was but a short dis- 
 tance she had to go, and, steadying herself with this 
 thought, she slipped the bolt and stood listening a mo- 
 ment to assure herself that she was not observed. She 
 marvelled somewhat that no sound of voices reached 
 her from the kitchen ; but ere any explanation suggested 
 itself, the door suddenly was thrust inward upon her, 
 and Marcelle staggered into the hall. She lurched so 
 that the Lady Agathe, dropping her bundle, caught her 
 quickly to save her from falling. 
 
 "Marcelle, what has befallen you?" she cried, and 
 closed the door again. 
 
 In truth, there was reason for her question, for in 
 270
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOT'S 
 
 the light of the single candle which shone dimly from 
 the adjoining room, Marcelle's face was deathly white, 
 and her eyes rolled vacantly in their sockets. The Lady 
 Agathe felt her own gaze shrink as Marcelle spoke. 
 
 " It was as I came through the gate no, it was in 
 the hills, long ago that seems, and I almost told him I 
 loved him, and and then that other, she came she 
 was always between us. Then he would have killed 
 some one no, it was not he, but no matter, I I, Mar- 
 celle the Mad, gnawed his bow-string so that naught 
 came of it." 
 
 " Marcelle ! " cried the Lady Agathe, trembling with 
 fear of the other's jumbled words. " Marcelle, calm 
 yourself. It is I, Agathe, who listens." 
 
 " Agathe ! " muttered Marcelle weakly. " That was 
 the name of the other who was always coming between 
 and afterward there was a great fire the hilltops 
 were all ablaze, and through the smoke the arrows were 
 falling like the drops of rain." 
 
 She wrenched herself from the Lady Agathe's grasp, 
 and stood swaying to and fro as she went on in her 
 horrible, measured tones: 
 
 " Like rain it was ; but a rain that bore death to all 
 it touched myself, did I not see the head of poor Ul- 
 rique Cadet leap from her very shoulders Ah, 'twas 
 a time for leaping heads were leaping the hot flames 
 were leaping and and hearts were leaping. But 'twas 
 I showed him the spring and the way out and and 
 because of that he he asked me which was the the 
 true Marcelle. Ha! Ha! What a question to ask 
 to ask me! Ha! Ha! Ha!" 
 
 The Lady Agathe recoiled and shuddered at the aw- 
 ful laugh. 
 
 "That was at the gate," continued Marcelle almost 
 271
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 in a whisper. " At the gate as we stood in the dark 
 with none near he asked which was the true Marcelle 
 all because because he he never had known the one. 
 Ay, that that was it he never had had known the 
 the one." 
 
 As she ended she half spun round, and again would 
 have fallen but for the Lady Agathe's arms. And now 
 she hung so limp and heavy that the Lady Agathe per- 
 ceived that her shattered senses had left her. With a 
 sigh, she bore her to her own bed and gently laid her 
 down, and as she did so saw the great swollen bruise 
 upon the side of Marcelle's head. Wa*s she dead? No; a 
 feeble flutter still met the Lady Agathe's searching hand. 
 
 What to do ? 
 
 The Lady Agathe was torn by conflicting emotions. 
 Here was this girl to whom she owed much, even life, 
 stricken, as she believed, to death. How could she leave 
 her? Yet, yonder behind the garden wall, the man she 
 loved waited for her to come to him. Did she summon 
 the women, all hope of her escaping must for a time be 
 lost, and time might mean everything. But with what 
 heart could she steal away to leave Marcelle to die 
 from lack of care? If the girl had deceived her, she 
 knew now why it had been, and pitied rather than cen- 
 sured her for it. Well she knew the horrors of re- 
 maining in this town, and she shuddered at the thought 
 of again encountering the Count de Charolais, while, 
 without in the street, safety, happiness, and the idol of 
 her heart were calling her to come. 
 
 She looked at the frail, unconscious figure before her, 
 pallid and cold to the very finger-tips. 
 
 The next instant she glided into the hall and throw- 
 ing her bundle under the bed, went swiftly to the kitchen 
 door and flung it open. 
 
 272
 
 AT THE WIDOW GALIOTS 
 
 " Petite Maman," she said, " and you, Bonne, come 
 quickly! Marcelle has met with an accident and is ill 
 nigh unto death, methinks. Come ! " 
 
 Thus did the Lady Agathe cast aside love, happiness, 
 and safety for what she deemed her duty. 
 
 Had Monsieur Vignolles, in truth, awaited her, as she 
 believed, would his love for her have been lessened by 
 the choice she made? 
 
 273
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 FOR some time after the shock of their encounter 
 in the street behind the town-hall the Sieur 
 Giraud and Tite devoted themselves to search- 
 ing for some trace of Monsieur Vignolles in the 
 rapidly thinning crowd. But this night few among that 
 shouting multitude had thought for any affair save the 
 one they had just witnessed, and still fewer were those 
 who stayed to vouchsafe them any answer to their 
 queries. 
 
 At length, fagged and discouraged, the two drew up 
 in one of the by-streets, and bitterly both did curse the 
 remissness which had resulted in their being too late to 
 see the throng before its breaking up. Yet, after all, it 
 was possible that Monsieur Vignolles had made no part 
 of it, and the more the Sieur Giraud pondered upon this 
 the more certain he became that such was true. 
 
 " Tis folly to carry our search farther, Tite," he 
 said. " I make no more doubt the man has been foully 
 dealt with. An unmindful wag of his tongue, and there 
 are many in this town who would do him to death for the 
 very allegiance he once held to the House of Burgundy. 
 Ay, 'tis that has befallen him, methinks, for the man is 
 over-given to speech and thinks little beforehand of what 
 he says." 
 
 But Tite shook his head. 
 
 " Nay, for in such case the whole town would know 
 of it," he answered. " Burgundians are not so plenty in 
 
 274
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 Dinant that the taking of one could pass unheeded. 
 Monsieur may have met with foul play ; but, if so, it has 
 been without discovery of his identity being made." 
 
 He turned and, the Sieur Giraud following him, the 
 two made their way slowly back to Madame Vaucler's, 
 the mind of each busy trying to frame some hypothesis 
 which would explain this sudden disappearance. 
 
 At length the Sieur Giraud spoke quickly. 
 
 " Tite, saw you that knave, Crepin, in the crowd be- 
 hind the town-hall ? " 
 
 Tite almost stopped in his walk. 
 
 " Crepin Brune ? " he cried. " Nay, I saw naught of 
 the rogue. Curse him ; I made note, though, that he took 
 good care to be away from camp when the others came 
 at us." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud thought that he might enlighten 
 Tite as to the cause of such absence, but refrained from 
 doing so. Such explanation would involve telling of the 
 attempt upon Count Charles, and Tite's hatred for the 
 latter was too deep to make such tale advisable. At least, 
 so the other thought. 
 
 " Some devilry's been afoot these many days and 
 Crepin has had a hand in it, I'll be sworn," went on Tite. 
 " Myself, I once saw him meet a stranger who came by 
 horse yonder in the hills, and he's been away from camp 
 too much for any fair purpose, since ne'er did he bring in 
 aught whereby our pockets or bellies were the better 
 filled." 
 
 " Such as the purse and velvets of the bishop's mes- 
 senger, Tite, to say naught of the horses ? " asked the 
 Sieur Giraud and laughed ; for there was much that was 
 humourous to him in the old man's system of ethics 
 whereby a " fair purpose " was betokened by the pro- 
 ceeds of brigandage. 
 
 275
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " If a man's a man, he works for them that work for 
 him," answered Tite drily. " But, however that may be, 
 if this Crepin has found his way here, do you have a care 
 lest he lay eyes upon you, for, by my faith, the whelp 
 would expose you for the mere sport of seeing your head 
 on a pike! Moreover, he's had no liking for you since 
 the first day you came to the camp. This I tell you be- 
 cause, for one thing, methinks Marcelle would have no 
 harm come to you, and for another, because 'tis not fit 
 that any man should die of a cur's bite." 
 
 " A thousand thanks for the warning, Tite," said the 
 Sieur Giraud, "but as it chances the affair will not be 
 one-sided, for if Crepin would deliver me over as a Bur- 
 gundian, so would I run him through at the first oppor- 
 tunity. And this with good reason, though I may tell 
 you no more." 
 
 " The odds are against your doing aught against 
 Crepin here in Dinant," said Tite as they mounted the 
 steps of their lodgings, " yet, by St. Hubert, ne'er would 
 I stand in the way of such essay ! " 
 
 So saying he pounded on the door till Madame Vau- 
 cler unbarred it and gave them entrance. 
 
 From her they learned that Poncet, having found 
 quarters for his parents, had sent word that he would 
 pass the night with them. Should he be wanted, they 
 were to send word to the address he gave. 
 
 Without more ado the two entered their room and 
 cast themselves down to sleep, the Sieur Giraud on the 
 bed and Tite on the floor. Yet sleep was strangely slow 
 in coming to them. That this should be so in his own 
 case was no matter for wonder to the Sieur Giraud, for 
 his mind was filled with thoughts of the day's ill-luck 
 the disappearance of Monsieur Vignolles and, above all, 
 the utter absence of clew as to the whereabouts of the 
 
 276
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 Lady Agathe. But why Tite should find slumber so re- 
 luctant to indulge him was matter for some wonder for 
 of ordinary the man became as one dead the moment his 
 head came to rest. Also, each time the Sieur Giraud 
 chanced to turn, he caught the eye of Tite fixed upon 
 him from beneath his blankets, and then his swift-fol- 
 lowing half-pretence of sleep. Of a truth, something 
 more than mere restlessness was keeping the old man 
 awake. Was it that he meditated some move when the 
 other should be asleep? The Sieur Giraud determined 
 to ascertain and to that end yawned heavily and settled 
 into an attitude of drowsy comfort. In a few moments 
 his deep, regular breathing penetrated to every corner of 
 the room. 
 
 He had not been wrong in his conjecture, for, after 
 waiting a short time, Tite rose stealthily from his cover- 
 ings and stole softly from the room. A moment later 
 the slow creaking of the outer door told of his departure 
 into the street. 
 
 Elated at the success of his ruse, the Sieur Giraud 
 only stayed to throw on his sword and then followed 
 noiselessly. Whatever Tite might be planning, whether 
 for his good or otherwise, he meant to know. As he 
 thrust his head cautiously from the door, he saw the 
 figure of Tite disappear round the next corner. There 
 was no time to be lost. Hastily he closed the door be- 
 hind him and made after Tite with all speed. 
 
 The streets were no longer crowded, yet enough were 
 still abroad to render his chances against detection, at 
 all events, even. Yet their very numbers were favour- 
 able to Tite's eluding his eye as he shot around some 
 corner ahead. Therefore, the Sieur Giraud was forced 
 to close up the space between them, and so, by many 
 twistings through the town, they progressed till Tite sud- 
 
 277
 
 denly stopped before a house and warily looked round. 
 The Sieur Giraud, scarce two-score paces behind him, 
 dodged behind a tree in the nick of time. 
 
 Having apparently assured himself that all was well, 
 Tite thrust open the gate before the house and rapidly 
 strode to the door, on which he sounded lightly. A 
 shaft of light for a moment fell into the street as the 
 door was opened in answer and then was blotted out 
 as quickly. 
 
 There being no further need for such caution as he 
 had till now used, the Sieur Giraud ran to the gate and 
 examined the front of the house. 
 
 Shutters before the two windows kept all light within 
 save what might sift through the tiny chinks at the sides. 
 Naught could he learn of the interior here, and he 
 hastened round to the back ; but here, also, shutters had 
 been put up for the night and he might gain no enlighten- 
 ment as to the character of the place. Nor could he on 
 either side hear any sound of voices from within. A 
 short time he stood undecided, then quickly returned to 
 the front door, slipping his sword free in its sheath as 
 he mounted the two low steps. The next moment he 
 knocked softly as Tite had done. 
 
 The sound of footsteps crossing the floor was fol- 
 lowed by the unbolting of the door. As it started to 
 open, the Sieur Giraud thrust his foot within, and, de- 
 spite the resistance offered, followed with the rest of his 
 body. 
 
 A low growl broke from the one who had answered 
 his knock. It was none other than Tite himself, and the 
 Sieur Giraud's hand left his hilt. 
 
 " What devil's contrivance brings you here ? " cried 
 the old man hotly. 
 
 " No devil's contrivance, but the proper desire any 
 278
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 man may have to know what's afoot when whatever that 
 is may concern his life," answered the Sieur Giraud 
 coolly. " What is this new game you play, Tite ? " 
 
 " Tis no affair of yours ; therefore, get you gone 
 and " 
 
 At that instant the Sieur Giraud heard some one ap- 
 proaching the door on his right, and again his hand 
 sought his sword. Tite shrugged his shoulders in dis- 
 gust as the door flew open and the Lady Agathe stood 
 before them. 
 
 " My lady ! " cried the Sieur Giraud, and then whirled 
 upon Tite. " So, all the time you have known where my 
 Lady Agathe was, you gray fox ? " 
 
 Tite ignored the question. He was chagrined at the 
 failure of his manoeuvre and sulked ; but the Lady Agathe 
 spoke quickly. 
 
 " Yes, he has known ; but there is no time to discuss 
 that. I have not yet heard what brings him here, save 
 that 'tis something concerning Monsieur Vignolles which 
 I would hear. Therefore, enter; but tread lightly, for 
 Marcelle has but now fallen into a doze." 
 
 As she spoke the strokes of the clock in the distant 
 town-hall counted the hour of eleven. 
 
 " Marcelle ! " exclaimed both of the men, and Tite 
 added, " She is then returned ? " 
 
 " Ay, some two hours since," answered the Lady 
 Agathe, leading them into the room and softly closing 
 the door, " and wounded nigh to death, methought at 
 first ; but the leech has seen her and says all will be well 
 if she be kept quiet. 'Tis a cruel blow she has received 
 on the head, and at first she raved therefrom; but now 
 she has her senses." 
 
 " And what says she of this mishap ? " asked the 
 Sieur Giraud. 
 
 279
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " I have learned naught of it, for the leech forbade all 
 talk to her and gave her some potion that was to bring 
 sleep upon her," was the answer. " But 'tis clear she 
 has met with this blow somewhere in the hills whither 
 she would go this day." 
 
 " A thousand curses on my head that I went not 
 after her as I was minded to ! " cried Tite. 
 
 As for the Sieur Giraud, he was torn by two emo- 
 tions, one the horror this news gave him and the other 
 the wonderment he felt at seeing the Lady Agathe now 
 treat him on the old footing, and as though naught ever 
 had come between them. But before he might find any 
 answer to this last, she spoke quickly : 
 
 " Yet come ; I may not stay from Marcelle long. 
 You come here for some news of Monsieur Vignolles, 
 methinks you said. Has he, then, not returned to your 
 quarters ? " 
 
 " No, my lady," answered the Sieur Giraud, and now 
 he understood the meaning of Tite's nocturnal expedi- 
 tion; it had been to find some trace of Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles; and he cast aside all further suspicion of this 
 grim old man. " Yet you speak of his returning, my 
 lady. So you knew of his absence?" 
 
 " Yes, since he was here just before Marcelle re- 
 turned," she answered, a slight wave of colour rising 
 to her face. 
 
 "Here!" they cried. 
 
 " Yes ; he followed Petite Maman home from the 
 market-place this noon and watched the house till 
 nightfall. He spoke of the. dangers of my remaining 
 here, and- 1 .promised to leave the town. He was to 
 await me in the street behind the house, and then we 
 were to search for you, but that was nearly two hours 
 ago. Surely he'd not wait that time; yet had naught 
 
 280
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 befallen him, he would have come to learn why I did 
 not join him." 
 
 As she had grasped what his disappearance might 
 mean, her face had gone ashy white, and she held her 
 hands toward them as though imploring them for 
 their aid. 
 
 But the Sieur Giraud was more concerned at the 
 free way she had spoken, and turned on Tite. 
 
 " Tite," he said, " you've heard what my lady never 
 would have said before you had she not been so dis- 
 tressed. That you have no hand in whatever trouble 
 has overtaken Monsieur Vignolles, I know full well; 
 but you might be disposed to take a hand in preventing 
 his leaving Dinant. Once for all, let us understand 
 each other. Is it to be above-board between us, or will 
 you use what you have heard against not only Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles, but the Lady Agathe as well? " 
 
 Tite glared doggedly at him and for a moment 
 stood kicking one foot against the other; then he said 
 shortly : 
 
 " Could I see Marcelle I'd give you your answer 
 straight enough, for whatever she said would be my 
 work. But if I've to fight it out alone, by my faith I'll 
 set naught in your way, for, myself, I came here think- 
 ing chance might have led monsieur hither. More- 
 over, I've no liking for opposing any lady, save 'tis 
 needful." 
 
 The Sieur Giraud made no reply, but seized his hand 
 and gripped it hard. Tite wrenched himself free and 
 turned to the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " There is good ground for your fears, my lady," he 
 said bluntly. " By which door did monsieur leave the 
 house? " 
 
 " By the garden door, methinks, for 'twas his plan 
 281
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 to engage Petite Marxian and the others while I slipped 
 out by the front." 
 
 "Ah! Petite Maman!" said the old man quickly. 
 " I hear her voice above the others in the kitchen now. 
 Do you bide here awhile; we shall see what she may 
 know of this affair. Time was when Petite Maman had 
 few secrets from old Tite." 
 
 With that he quickly crossed the room and entered 
 the kitchen, closing the door behind him. The burst 
 of welcome that greeted his entrance fell upon the ears 
 of those he left behind. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud turned to the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " You have heard, my lady, that I am not guilty of 
 all you held against me," he said. 
 
 "Yes," she answered; "Monsieur Vignolles made 
 me aware how I had been imposed upon." 
 
 In the adjoining room a little, wild-eyed figure sud- 
 denly lurched rather than rose to a sitting posture in 
 bed, then, letting its feet to the floor, felt its way along 
 the bedside to the door. None would have seen in this 
 shattered, trembling form that Marcelle who had ruled 
 over a part of the Ardennes. The pallor of weakness 
 and the agony of suffering were stamped heavily upon 
 her face, yet she managed to open the door, and stole 
 softly into the hall, where she laid her ear against the 
 other door. 
 
 For as she had lain in that borderland between con- 
 sciousness and insensibility with the potent effects of 
 the drug fighting against the mad activity of her mind, 
 it had seemed to her that from somewhere his voice had 
 reached her ears. In a confused fashion she had tried 
 to reason this away as being impossible, yet her head 
 had roared loudly that it was so, till by main force of 
 will she had resolved to know. When 'twas done, had 
 
 282
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 one asked how she had come into that hall, she might 
 not have told, yet, half-dazed though she was, her 
 senses were preternaturally acute and on edge. 
 
 " Alas, Sieur Giraud," went on the Lady Agathe, 
 little dreaming of this second listener, " what may I 
 say, what may I do to condone my overreadiness to 
 believe such things of you?" 
 
 " Speak not of that, my lady, since 'tis now all a 
 part of the past," he answered. " Enough it is and 
 more to know that once again I may enjoy such esteem 
 as your kindness before allowed me." 
 
 He knelt, and taking her hand, kissed it very gent- 
 ly, but his kiss had naught in it save the mark of high 
 regard, which any man may pay a lady with never a 
 further thought. 
 
 Yet at the sound the kneeling figure without trem- 
 bled violently, and sought support against the door- 
 frame. 
 
 " The evidence of all your senses was against me, 
 my lady," he went on, rising, " and had I been what 
 you deemed me, God knows your action was only what 
 would have become you above all others. It is ended; 
 therefore let us both try to forget what to me at least 
 has been the worst passage of life." 
 
 " As it has to me, I do assure you, Sieur Giraud," 
 answered the Lady Agathe gently. 
 
 Marcelle could bear no more. It had come in spite 
 of all that she had done this meeting, this return to 
 what had been before between these two. For in the 
 simple words she had heard she thought to read only 
 the quickening of an oppressed love, and the kiss was 
 to her but the seal they had set thereto. Alas! had her 
 straining gaze but been able to penetrate that thin width 
 of wood before her, her eyes would have given the lie 
 19 283
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 to such thoughts. Had she but waited another mo- 
 ment her ears would have heard that which would have 
 set her fluttering little heart leaping for joy. But no; 
 she had given up the fight. Defeated, disconsolate, and 
 sick at heart, she rose and staggered back to the bed 
 she had left. She had not been wrong. It had been his 
 voice that she had heard. O God! 
 
 " Let us then speak of what concerns us now, my 
 lady," said the Sieur Giraud. " You were to meet Mon- 
 sieur Vignolles in the street behind the house, you say. 
 Yet it appears that you did not go there." 
 
 "No," she answered; "for even as I was leaving 
 the house, Marcelle came reeling in upon me." 
 
 " And you stayed to care for her, my lady ! " he ex- 
 claimed. " Methinks ne'er did I hear of nobler deed, 
 for Marcelle had wofully misled you." 
 
 " Yet she had saved my life, Sieur Giraud," she an- 
 swered, " and, withal, methinks I see some reason for 
 the strange course she has taken." 
 
 As she said this she looked at him closely, but he 
 merely shook his head as he replied: 
 
 " You are discerning, my lady, for, as for myself, I 
 have given o'er trying to know Marcelle's nature. One 
 moment it has the cold, forbidding aspect of a winter's 
 day that chills with its very sight; the next, it is all 
 sunshine and warmth and gladsomeness, that draws one 
 to her with its very glow. At such times one forgets 
 her other side, for then she is not merely good, my lady 
 not merely pleasing she is ador " 
 
 The rest of what he would have said was cut off by 
 the hurried entrance of Tite, and by his face they knew 
 that he bore news of moment. 
 
 " Come into the hall," he said, leading the way 
 thither. " Faith, the wenches have got liquor from 
 
 284
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 somewhere, and they're too busy with it to have eye 
 or ear for us, but 'tis best to take no chances." 
 
 A burst of hilarity from the kitchen arose to cor- 
 roborate his statement. 
 
 Tite turned to the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " Not far wrong were you in thinking to have seen 
 Crepin Brune," he said, " for 'tis none other than that 
 knave who has made off with monsieur." 
 
 The Lady Agathe gasped, and clutched at the door 
 to steady herself. 
 
 " They will kill him ! " she cried. 
 
 " No ; 'tis not their game," answered Tite. " What 
 with the liquor they'd had yonder and a little palaver, 
 Petite Maman gave me the whole tale. 'Tis their plan 
 to hold him so that, should the Burgundians take the 
 town, they'll have a hostage for their own safety. Ah, 
 that Crepin is slyer than ten ordinary men! They took 
 monsieur in that very kitchen." 
 
 " And where have they taken him ? " 
 
 " Petite Maman was not sure, but thought 'twas 
 to the house of that Jacques Rochet I had some words 
 with this noon. He lives next door to the inn where 
 we saw him." 
 
 "Then the devil seize me if they shall not be upset 
 in their calculations ! " cried the Sieur Giraud, and added 
 quickly, "But where go you, Tite?" for the old man 
 had opened the door. 
 
 " To arm myself faith, not with such sword as you 
 wear, for 'twould get between my legs with every step 
 I took. I know where to find such tool as I may swing 
 in comfort. If they've taken monsieur to Rochet's 
 there'll be no small party of them there." 
 
 The Lady Agathe took a quick step forward. 
 
 " Then you will help release Monsieur Vignolles ; 
 285
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 you, Tite ? " she asked, and held the old man's look with 
 hers. 
 
 " Since 'tis to put a spoke in Crepin's wheel, no fear 
 but that I will, my lady," he answered. 
 
 " It means all the world to me, Tite," she said softly, 
 while the Sieur Giraud opened the door and looked up 
 and down the street. 
 
 He looked at her sharply. 
 
 " We'll do more for knowing that, my lady," he said ; 
 and with that the Lady Agathe leaned suddenly forward 
 and, fine lady that she was, seized his rough hand and 
 touched her lips to it, ere he might divine her intention. 
 
 A moment he stood rooted to the spot; then rushed 
 from the house. 
 
 At the gateway he paused and delivered a brief so- 
 liloquy : 
 
 " To think of that coming to me at three-score-and- 
 five! By St. Hubert, we shall see, Crepin; we shall 
 see!" 
 
 The Sieur Giraud turned to say his adieu and found 
 that the Lady Agathe had opened the other door leading 
 from the hall and was looking within. She turned and 
 laid a finger on her lips. 
 
 " It is Marcelle ? " he whispered. 
 
 She nodded, and then something in the man's face 
 made her beckon him to her. 
 
 For an instant he saw the drawn, pallid face and 
 the mass of tumbled, raven locks that fell about it on 
 the pillow. Then the Lady Agathe closed the door 
 softly, for, at last, the leech's herbs had taken effect and 
 Marcelle slept. 
 
 Something seemed to be gripping his heart, and his 
 own face reflected some of that haggard look he had 
 seen. 
 
 286
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 " Poor child ! Take all care of her, my lady ! " he 
 said hoarsely, and wrung her hand. 
 
 Then he ran down the steps, and joining Tite the 
 two set forth hotfoot for the house of Jacques Rochet. 
 
 There were few by-ways of Dinant that were un- 
 known to Tite ; therefore, it was no very long matter 
 before they stood before the house. The Sieur Giraud 
 was for entering at once; but Tite reminded him that 
 within were probably many they would have to fight, 
 and that he was unarmed, save for the knife at his belt. 
 Bidding the Sieur Giraud await his return, he strode 
 quickly up the street, promising that his absence should 
 be short. Meanwhile, the Sieur Giraud was to watch the 
 house for any sign of life within, and to search about 
 for some means of entrance. 
 
 With this latter in view the Sieur Giraud crossed 
 the street and leaped the fence of the adjoining house. 
 Running rapidly around it into the garden behind, he 
 scaled the dividing wall and found himself almost at 
 Rochet's back door. This precaution he had used be- 
 cause of the lights that shone through the windows in 
 front, telling that the inmates were still astir and, per- 
 chance, on the alert. He examined the windows care- 
 fully and judged that with Tite's help he might force 
 one of them; and then some strange chance led him to 
 the door, and he stopped to test its strength. To his 
 great surprise it flew open under his shoulder, and he 
 was put to it to prevent its crashing against the wall 
 behind. Within all was dark, save for the light that 
 came through the chink of a door at the far end of the 
 passage. 
 
 He paused irresolute. Should he go on, or wait for 
 Tite ? A moment only he hesitated ; then the great long- 
 ing to see what was on the other side of that door over- 
 
 287
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 came him and, drawing his sword, he stole silently 
 along the hall, and applied his eye to the crevice. 
 
 What he saw wellnigh brought a cry from his lips, 
 for straight in the line of his vision sat Crepin Brune. 
 On a table before him lay Monsieur Vignolles's sword- 
 belt and sheath, and the blade itself Crepin was ex- 
 amining with critical satisfaction under the light of a 
 candle. Though the Sieur Giraud could see no more of 
 the room, he was sure from the silence that Crepin was 
 alone. Nor, in truth, was there any reason why he 
 should fear any meddling with his plans, since he be- 
 lieved there was none who could by chance discover 
 them. 
 
 In a flash, all thought of Tite fled from the other, 
 for the sight of this man brought a great rage upon the 
 Sieur Giraud. Softly he felt for the catch of the door, 
 and raising it noiselessly, pushed with his knee till he 
 found the door to give. Then, abandoning all attempt at 
 further stealth, he thrust it open quickly and entered, 
 closing and bolting it behind him. 
 
 Crepin sprang to his feet with a sharp cry, and thrust 
 the table before him. 
 
 " Another sound like that and 'twill be your last ! " 
 said the Sieur Giraud, and shot a glance about the 
 room. 
 
 Another door leading to the front hall met his eye, 
 and noting that the bolt was drawn, he quickly crossed 
 the room and shot it home. 
 
 " Now, you scurvy rogue, we may speak alone," he 
 said, turning to Crepin. " First drop that sword your 
 clumsy touch is defiling Ah ! Would you ? " 
 
 He leaped forward, and with a savage lunge ran his 
 blade beneath the one Crepin had thought to use against 
 him. With a jerk of his wrist, it went hurtling to the 
 
 288
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 floor, and, before the man might move, the Sieur Gi- 
 raud's point was against his jerkin. 
 
 "And pity 'tis that it may not be now," said the 
 Sieur Giraud ; " but first, Master Crepin, I have use for 
 you. Where is Monsieur Vignolles, you knave ? " 
 
 Crepin wilted and sank limply into the chair he had 
 occupied. 
 
 " In the cellar," he answered sullenly. 
 
 " Is it so? " cried the Sieur Giraud. " Then do you 
 take the candle and we shall soon have him out and 
 move when I speak to you, lest I run you through first 
 and visit the cellar afterward." 
 
 "If I give him up I go free, eh?" whined Crepin, 
 picking up the candle. 
 
 " If you give him up 'tis because 'tis forced on you! " 
 cried the Sieur Giraud. " Moreover, you forget our 
 own little account, Master Crepin. If I spared you, I'd 
 hate myself the rest of my life. A few moments more 
 you have, though ; so put them to profit. Lead on ! 
 You may say such prayers as you know on the way ; for 
 'twill save time later." 
 
 With that he drove the cowering wretch ahead of 
 him toward the door through which he had entered. 
 
 But even as Crepin laid his hand upon the bolt, 
 loud laughter and the tramp of many steps rang through 
 the passage without. With a mad shriek of joy, Crepin 
 shot back the bolt and, bawling lustily for aid, dodged 
 nimbly to one side ere the Sieur Giraud recovered from 
 his surprise. 
 
 But his joy was premature, for, with a bound, the 
 Sieur Giraud sprang upon him and, keeping his blade 
 toward the door, caught him with one hand by the neck 
 and dashed his head against the wall with awful force. 
 He sank in a huddled heap ; but his work had not been 
 
 289
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 futile, for even as he fell the others came pouring 
 through the door. They had left Crepin but a half-hour 
 before to go to the inn for drink. 
 
 A half dozen sturdy rogues they were, two wearing 
 swords and the rest armed with clubs and knives. 
 Jacques Rochet himself was at their head. 
 
 " Ha ! " he roared, " the other Burgundian as I live ; 
 the same that was with Tite this day at the inn, and I 
 knew him not ! By God, Tite shall pay for the company 
 he keeps ! Lay at him, comrades ! " 
 
 But the Sieur Giraud had no intention of being 
 butchered by these thieves ; nor did he wait for their 
 onset. Snatching up the chair, he hurled it full at 
 Rochet's head and was rejoiced to see the blood come 
 streaming from his mark. Yet he paused not, but fol- 
 lowing up his lead, set upon the man nearest him and 
 ran him through ere the fool could raise his sword. 
 But here misfortune overtook him, for the man in 
 falling twisted the hilt from his grasp ere he might 
 withdraw the blade. Monsieur Vignolles's sword had 
 dropped just beyond his reach, and with a maddened cry 
 the five sprang at him. 
 
 But their prey was not yet within their grasp. With 
 a bound, the Sieur Giraud caught up the table and 
 brought it down upon the heads of the foremost, and, as 
 he did so, the candle rolled to the floor and was promptly 
 stamped out by some foot. Then cautiously and silently 
 he worked his way to the wall and along it to the door 
 leading to the front hall. A moment more and he would 
 have been without; but even as he softly drew the bolt, 
 the outer door giving upon the street fell inward with 
 a crash, and he heard heavy steps approaching through 
 the hall. 
 
 Caught between two bodies of these knaves, what 
 290
 
 ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
 
 chance had he now? Despite the man's dogged courage, 
 his heart fell. 
 
 But even as he despaired, he heard his own name 
 shouted aloud. 
 
 The saints be praised! This new-comer was Tite! 
 
 Flinging open the door, he fairly ran into the old 
 man. 
 
 "Tite, thank God, 'tis you!" he cried. 
 
 " Come quick ! The whole street will be on us in a 
 moment with this noise. What devil possessed you to 
 enter alone?" said Tite. 
 
 " But Monsieur Vignolles ! " cried the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " He must wait," answered Tite. " We have enough 
 to look after our own skins now." 
 
 And, indeed, he was right, for were they caught by 
 the crowd that would soon gather, it would mean the 
 end of everything. 
 
 " Yet, by my faith, I'll not leave my sword behind ! 
 'Tis yonder, stuck in the carcass of one of those curs," 
 cried the Sieur Giraud. " Give me then for a moment 
 that " 
 
 " Nay," answered Tite ; and for an instant the light 
 of battle was in his eyes. " I know as much of the use 
 of this as you do. Follow me, and you shall have your 
 sword." 
 
 The five within had by now fathomed the nature of 
 the interruption and, seeing that Tite was alone, rushed 
 madly forward toward them. 
 
 Then did Tite seem to shake off his years. 
 
 With a cry of joy he leaped well into the room, that 
 his strange weapon might have fair play, and fell upon 
 them. Nor could they withstand his onslaught, for few 
 there are who may stand before it. It was but a stout 
 shaft of oak the length of his arm, to which, by a chain 
 
 291
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 of equal length, was hung a huge oaken ball bristling 
 with iron spikes. The holy-water sprinkler, they called 
 it, in jest, for it somewhat resembled that implement 
 in shape, and death it was to him whom it touched 
 when wielded by such arms as Tite's. 
 
 Three more were down when the Sieur Giraud recov- 
 ered his sword, and then the two turned and ran through 
 the hall and down the street. Nor were they any too 
 soon, for the street was now alive with those roused 
 by the brawl, and one party even set out in pursuit of 
 them. 
 
 It was owing to Tite's extensive knowledge of the 
 by-ways and alleys that they finally were enabled to 
 shake them off. 
 
 Yet even as they entered Madame Vaucler's door, 
 neither felt too great a confidence in the future. As for 
 the Sieur Giraud, he knew that from that hour these 
 rogues, and especially Crepin, would spare no pains in 
 hunting him down, while Tite had food for reflection 
 in that he had this night allied himself with the Bur- 
 gundian faction. 
 
 How long they might hope to avoid discovery seemed 
 to depend wholly upon the extent of Crepin's hurt. It 
 was therefore scarce a matter for wonder that both 
 should pray that this might prove mortal. 
 
 292
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 NO idle words had Monsieur Vignolles spoken 
 when he had forecast the threatening doom 
 that hovered over the town. 
 
 Like the coils of a serpent the great, advan- 
 cing columns of the Count de Charolais unwound them- 
 selves from among the hills to the northward. In the 
 van marched the archers, thousand on thousand of them, 
 under the watchful eye of the Count de St. Pol, Consta- 
 ble of France. Behind them the earth shook with the 
 passage of the huge bombards which were to batter down 
 the walls of Dinant, and on the flanks hung thick masses 
 of mounted men-at-arms. 
 
 From across the river at Bouvignes, whither Mon- 
 seigneur the Duke of Burgundy had gone to watch the 
 course of affairs, the spectacle of this advancing host 
 was imposing enough. He smiled grimly as he looked 
 on, for in those flashing gleams from headpiece or lance, 
 in the flaunt of those flaming banners, revenge seemed 
 very near, revenge upon this canaille who had dared 
 defy his house. A great pride swelled within him, too, 
 as his eye caught the sable banner with its golden effigy 
 of St. George dealing the death-stroke to the dragon, for 
 he knew that beneath its fluttering folds rode one of his 
 own blood, one well fitted for his task of vengeance. If 
 Monseigneur's spirit was wellnigh cold with age, his 
 heart warmed nevertheless at the thought that he had 
 
 293
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 such son as the Count de Charolais to perform this work 
 upon which he himself could not venture. 
 
 Two days after the affray at the house of Jacques 
 Rochet, an uncouth, unwieldy rabble sallied forth from 
 the town to meet this trained soldiery. For in Dinant the 
 hot-heads still were in full control and large bodies of 
 the Companions had come in from the hills to have a 
 hand in the undoing of the hated Charlotel. Scarce half 
 a league from the gates the two forces met, the one cool, 
 compact, and directed by such a man of war as the con- 
 stable; the other, turbulent and bawling the vilest in- 
 sults by way of preliminary, with no formation, and led 
 by outlaw chiefs to whom warfare, save in the marauding 
 fashion of the hills, was unknown. The issue of such an 
 encounter could not remain long in doubt. Of the two 
 thousand who had ventured forth with such foolhardy 
 zeal, scarce half returned within the walls. 
 
 And now, in place of the vaunted courage and the 
 boasting threats against Charlotel, came terror-stricken 
 cries from this riotous mob. If the advance guard alone 
 of the Burgundian army could deal such a blow, what 
 havoc would the main force inflict? Better far to re- 
 turn to the hardships of the hills than to remain here to 
 become such prey. So thought many of them, and ac- 
 cordingly fled with no more ado; but enough of them 
 were yet left to hold the upper hand. 
 
 On the afternoon of the same day the Burgundian 
 host deployed under the very walls of the town and 
 planted their bombards to bear upon one spot in the 
 masonry. A formal summons to yield was met with jeer- 
 ing refusal from the maddened crowds on the walls. 
 
 Then the Count de Charolais gave the signal and in 
 an instant the ground shook with the thunderous dis- 
 charge of many pieces. The very bombards themselves, 
 
 294
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 being provided with no trunnions, leaped high after each 
 firing and tore great gashes in the earth beneath them. 
 Great solid shot smashed against the walls, or came 
 screaming over them to fall in the town. 
 
 Against all this the wretched rabble could return only 
 a wavering fire; but the man Lenoir had spoken with 
 reason in regard to the walls. Some hammering they 
 would require ere they yielded, and with this thought the 
 crowd contented itself, always deluded by the belief that 
 the king or the Liegeoise were coming to their aid. To 
 storm the town before a breach had been effected was 
 beyond the powers of even the Burgundians. Therefore 
 they settled down and directed all their attention to the 
 guns. 
 
 From dawn till darkness set in each day for a week 
 the surrounding hills echoed with the continuous roar, 
 and slowly, but steadily, the stout masonry gave way 
 under the onslaught. Within the town great jagged 
 holes in the tiled and leaden roofs bore witness to the 
 havoc wrought, and nigh to a thousand met death in the 
 streets or perchance in their own homes. 
 
 And now, in truth, sheer panic seized upon the very 
 ones who before had blustered such defiance. Escape 
 ere the Burgundians came through that breach a score 
 paces wide which had been torn in the wall, was all 
 that possessed their minds. By the strange fortune 
 which ofttimes favours rogues, the river above the town 
 had been left unguarded. Discovery of this was made 
 by a few more venturesome spirits, and with the fall of 
 night these bold defenders stole away into the darkness 
 and the safety of the Ardennes. 
 
 With the morning the magistrates again found them- 
 selves in control and at once made overtures to the Count 
 de Charolais. These were unanswered, for, with the 
 
 295
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 prize well in his grasp, Count Charles was in no mood 
 for treating with his victims. 
 
 Fearful of showing themselves in the streets, the Sieur 
 Giraud and Tite all this time had been forced to remain 
 indoors by day. But at night they thrice had ventured 
 forth, searching the deepest shadows in the manner of 
 two culprits, for too many now had heard of them, and 
 recognition meant death. 
 
 On each occasion they had visited the street wherein 
 was the widow Galiot's house, but had been unable to 
 catch sight of any within, nor dared they enter, since it 
 had been shown them how thick the women were with 
 Crepin. 
 
 Once they had nearly met misfortune, for one of the 
 armed patrols which now nightly held ward over the 
 streets, would have inquired into the affair which brought 
 them abroad when others were only too glad to sleep 
 during the lull in the bombardment. Flight alone had 
 saved them, and again it had been Tite who showed the 
 way to safety. 
 
 What fate Monsieur Vignolles had met they knew 
 not, nor might they further concern themselves for 
 him since their own position was wellnigh as perilous. 
 Poncet had never returned to them, and the reason was 
 clear, when Madame Vaucler learned in her gossip that 
 his head had been taken off by a round shot. 
 
 Of Crepin they heard no word, and the Sieur Giraud 
 wondered whether the blow he had dealt him had, for 
 all time, put an end to the rogue's devilry. 
 
 Nobly had Madame Vaucler met their appeal for 
 secrecy with regard to their presence in her house. Tite 
 had been for locking her up in her own room, swearing 
 that no woman's tongue might be trusted ; but the Sieur 
 Giraud had overruled this after a talk with the woman. 
 
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 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 Garrulous as she might be, she could not do too much for 
 those who had been comrades of her son, and, moreover, 
 she knew naught of the reason which made these two so 
 fearful. They had said some brawl had forced this con- 
 cealment upon them, and she once had seen something of 
 the like in the case of Andre himself. 
 
 Yet the thought of the Lady Agathe and Marcelle 
 being left alone during all this turmoil weighed heavily 
 on both the Sieur Giraud and Tite. At length they de- 
 cided upon a plan for their relief, and only waited for 
 favourable opportunity to put it into effect. 
 
 Among the terror-stricken herd which poured forth 
 into the hills, some who might have been looked for 
 there were lacking. Neither the burly form of Jacques 
 Rochet nor the lesser one of Crepin Brune fought for 
 place in that mad rout. In the case of the former this 
 was due to his very great confidence in Crepin, while with 
 the latter, it only went to show the supreme confidence he 
 felt in his own safety, even should the Burgundians take 
 the town. Therefore the two, with some half-score 
 knaves whom they cajoled with promises of future re- 
 ward, remained behind, and Rochet's house became the 
 headquarters for the party. 
 
 In truth, the blow that Crepin's head had sustained 
 had been no light one, and for some days he might not 
 leave the bed to which they had borne him. This had 
 served to protect the Sieur Giraud from the immediate 
 pursuit Crepin would have begun. Indeed, the man had 
 urged Rochet to the work, but the efforts of that worthy 
 had met with no success. 
 
 With his recovery, his hatred for the Sieur Giraud 
 grew apace, and consumed him to the exclusion of all 
 other thought. Only let him lay hands on this Bur- 
 gundian now, and he could wipe out the score between 
 
 297
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 them and add to his own reward at one and the same 
 time. 
 
 On the evening of the day that saw the return of 
 the magistrates to power, Crepin found himself strong 
 enough to rise and dress. Fixity of purpose was on 
 his features, for in the long hours he had lain helpless 
 his mind had not been idle. An ugly, distorted look 
 he wore, for despite flogging and such other tortures 
 as they could invent, Monsieur Vignolles had, for the 
 third time, just refused to disclose the lodging of the 
 Sieur Giraud. Which tale, repeated by Rochet, had 
 served to bring Crepin from his bed. 
 
 " Then there is but one course left us," he cried as 
 he snatched a pike from the corner. " We must search 
 the town from end to end. But first I will see Petite 
 Maman, for perchance she has some word that may help 
 us. Leave three men to have an eye on that fool below, 
 and you and the rest come with me. By all the saints, 
 this Sieur Giraud shall not give us the slip this time 
 if fortune favours us ! " 
 
 A moment later he gazed with satisfaction on the 
 men Rochet assembled, and, noting that they were well 
 armed, strode forth into the night with the eight at his 
 heels. 
 
 Arrived before the widow Gailot's, he left them 
 before the house, bidding them keep in the shadow, 
 and quickly made his way round to the rear. 
 
 He had come in good season, for Petite Maman was 
 just in the act of putting up the shutters before the 
 window. She started, half in fright, as he came before 
 her. 
 
 " Faith, 'tis little we've seen of you of late, Master 
 Crepin," she cried. " Methought one of the big shot 
 must have carried you off, and with you I saw depart 
 
 298
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 the hope you raised within me the night you took young 
 jackanapes from here. How fares he?" 
 
 " Well enough," answered Crepin shortly, and 
 nodded to the other women who now came to the win- 
 dow. " But stubborn he is stubborn as the very devil 
 and naught will he say of the whereabouts of the 
 other. 'Tis for that I come to you, for 'tis clear enough 
 you know something, since but a week ago the Sieur 
 Giraud wellnigh did for me." 
 
 " And what has that to do with me ? " asked the 
 woman. 
 
 " Enough, methinks," he replied, " since the man 
 would scarce find me out by chance he and that old 
 rogue Tite." 
 
 Petite Maman let the shutter drop heavily. 
 
 " Tite, you say ? He was with the Burgundian ? " 
 she cried. " Then, in truth, 'twas I who sent them 
 against you. We'd all had some drink that night; but, 
 by my faith, ne'er did I suspect Tite of favouring this 
 Sieur Giraud, else would I have kept my tongue still." 
 
 "And better 'twould have been," growled Crepin; 
 " but the thing is ended. What I would learn now is 
 whether you know aught of where the two keep them- 
 selves, for, I tell you, to lay hands on the Sieur Giraud 
 will mean much to us. The time is getting short, and 
 Chariot el may storm the town at any hour." 
 
 " Ay, but I know naught of what you ask," answered 
 the woman, and then added, " To think of my being so 
 wheedled by Tite! But 'twas drink did it drink and 
 the fluster of Marcelle's coming that night and in such 
 case." 
 
 " What mean you, woman? Why should her com- 
 ing make you play the fool?" 
 
 " Because, till the leech came, we all thought she 
 20 299
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 was as good as dead," replied Petite Maman. " Some 
 one in the hills dealt her a foul blow that wellnigh made 
 an end of her." 
 
 "The devil! I knew naught of that!" said Crepin, 
 and, like a flash, a brutal desire arose within him to see 
 Marcelle and note how she would receive him after 
 what had passed between them at the vine-grower's. 
 
 " Methinks I'll see Marcelle a moment!" he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " And methinks you'll do naught of the kind," an- 
 swered Petite Maman firmly. " Faith, 'tis only to-day 
 she has sat up for the first time, and that, I'll be sworn, 
 is only due to the care she's had from the fine lady she 
 sent here." 
 
 "The Lady Agathe!" said Crepin. 
 
 "Whom else should it be?" answered the woman. 
 " Saints ! she's scarce left Marcelle's side since she came 
 here. A strange lady she is, and one the like of whom 
 I've ne'er seen before." 
 
 The woman's refusal to allow him to see Marcelle 
 only served to aggravate his desire. If his plans did 
 not miscarry, the time might soon come when he would 
 be in a position to drive a fresh bargain with Marcelle 
 a bargain in which she would have no say. 
 
 "I tell you I will see Marcelle," he said sharply; 
 " and do you have a care how you oppose me, Petite 
 Maman! No more deal you with Crepin Brune of the 
 Ardennes, but with the man who may save your very 
 life yet." 
 
 The women recoiled in dread at his words. 
 
 "Ha! You women will be looking for a friend 
 when the Burgundians get into these streets. You 
 know what to expect unless " 
 
 " Hold your tongue! " cried Petite Maman. " Faith, 
 300
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 we've no notion of opposing you since you say you 
 can save us." 
 
 " That I swear to do! " he said. " If Charlotel deny 
 me aught after what I shall offer him, then has the devil 
 turned all things awry. Saints ! one might have thought 
 I meant the girl harm! What more natural than for an 
 old Companion to wish to see her after her trouble? " 
 
 " Enough ! Since 'tis fixed in your mind, see her 
 you shall, though methinks she scarce yearns so for 
 the meeting, and she has said no word to any one since 
 she came back from the hills," answered Petite Maman, 
 and, moving to one side, added, " Come in, then; you'll 
 find them in the front room." 
 
 " Them! " cried Crepin. " But I've no time to waste 
 on this other; I would see Marcelle alone. Get the 
 Lady Agathe away from her." 
 
 " She's not with Marcelle, but in her own room, 
 asleep," put in Bonne Fleuron. " I saw her there just 
 before you came." 
 
 " Then do you go to the front door and I'll let you 
 in," said Petite Maman, " though 'tis a trick I'd have 
 no hand in but for what you say you can do for us." 
 
 " And I'll not forget when it comes your turn to 
 ask favours," he said quickly, and with that stole round 
 to the front and entered. 
 
 Petite Maman softly opened the door of Marcelle's 
 room, looked about, and then, without a word, motioned 
 him to pass in. An instant later the door closed softly 
 behind him. 
 
 So quietly had the man entered that Marcelle, half 
 turned from him, made no note of his presence, and he 
 paused a moment, struck by the great change that her 
 illness had wrought in her appearance. She half sat, 
 half reclined in a large arm-chair spread with blankets 
 
 301
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 and pillows from the bed. In the light of the candle 
 upon the table, her face shone white and drawn; but 
 Crepin's mind was most taken up with the listless look 
 in her great black eyes as she stared straight before 
 her. In it were concentrated abandonment, despair, 
 and resignation. Her small hands clasped and unclasped 
 again and again as he watched, and, wretch though the 
 man was, he felt something akin to pity for her. 
 
 The Lady Agathe might have told him how for days 
 she had struggled to bring Marcelle back to the present; 
 how she had fought by every means to rouse her from 
 her somnolence, even to mention of the Sieur Giraud's 
 name, and all without avail. Also how Marcelle had 
 checked her petulantly when she would have told her 
 of the great love she bore Monsieur Vignolles; so that 
 at last she had given over all thought of speech, and 
 had realised that she, at least, might not rouse Mar- 
 celle from her lethargy. 
 
 He shifted his feet uneasily and coughed. 
 
 Marcelle turned her head slowly. 
 
 "Oh, it's you, is it, Crepin?" she said quietly, and 
 seemed in no way startled by his appearance. 
 
 This form of greeting took him unawares. He had 
 been armed against a wild outburst of passion, but this 
 indifferent calm robbed him of speech. 
 
 " So you got free that day under the Great Bald 
 Knoll? I knew it not before," she went on, but in her 
 words there was no tone of interest. It was as though 
 she spoke of some trivial occurrence which mattered 
 not one way or the other, and broke not upon her 
 reverie. Yet she had not spoken as much since her 
 injury. 
 
 At last the man found his voice. 
 
 " Ay, I slipped through their hands in the end," he 
 302
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 said, " though the feel of the rope is upon my neck even 
 now." 
 
 She made no answer, and he continued: 
 
 " That day you entered into a compact with me ; do 
 you recall it, Marcelle? If I had succeeded " 
 
 " But you failed," she said wearily. " Why, then, 
 speak of something which no longer has any interest 
 for me?" 
 
 He stepped forward so that he came to face her. 
 
 " And if it is so, think not that my own concern is 
 so short-lived, Marcelle," he cried sharply, for in the 
 very frailty of the girl his brutal instinct thought to 
 see a ready submission, or, at most, but a feeble re- 
 sistance to his will. 
 
 " Ha, times have changed, Marcelle ! " he went on. 
 " You will remember I spoke of the fame I should at- 
 tain if my shaft went true ; but, bah ! What would such 
 have meant? naught but the plaudits of a roving troop 
 of vagabonds, the fawning of the precious Companions 
 of the Green Tent! Where are these now? Skulking 
 yonder in the Ardennes, and dodging every shadow, 
 fearful lest it be cast by a man of Burgundy. I failed 
 that day because of a rotten bow-string, yet ne'er did 
 good fortune attend closer upon failure." 
 
 She stopped him with a gesture of fatigue, and 
 raised her great eyes to his for a moment. 
 
 " I know your change of purpose," she said quietly. 
 " Agathe has told me I believe she has I am not 
 sure of the seizure of Monsieur Vignolles, and with 
 the Count de Charolais thundering at the gates, your 
 intent is clear enough. But, once more, I tell you, all 
 this affects me no longer. When the Burgundians come 
 pouring into the town, they shall find me ready. Yet, 
 I shall pay the debt of another, for that Marcelle the 
 
 303
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Mad whom they would kill died a week ago. But go, 
 Crepin. I would be alone." 
 
 The Lady Agathe would have marvelled had she seen 
 her so wakened. 
 
 A moment he looked at her without speaking, so 
 strange were her words ; then shook his head and said, 
 with what passed with him for gentleness: 
 
 " Faith, that blow on the head has shaken your 
 mind, Marcelle. Or is it the dread of the death you 
 think to see before you? Ay, 'tis that, methinks, for 
 few there be who can look such in the face and hold their 
 senses. You have guessed aright what's in my mind. 
 The man's a fool who sits idly by when he may gain 
 reward with little effort, and this Vignolles will make a 
 pretty offering to the Burgundians. But 'tis the other, 
 the Sieur Giraud, they'd give more to hold, and him I 
 will have ere many hours. Could I have taken Gaspard 
 Lenoir the other night, the bag would have been com- 
 plete, but he's got safe away." 
 
 Marcelle looked up quickly. 
 
 " Then you know where to lay your hand on the 
 Sieur Giraud ? " she asked. 
 
 " No," he answered grimly ; " but if I track him not 
 to his cover this night, 'twill be passing strange. Two 
 such men as he and Tite may not remain hid to all eyes 
 in such town as Dinant; and eight sturdy knaves there 
 are without who will aid me in the search. But enough 
 of this ; 'tis of yourself I would speak." 
 
 He thrust his head quite close to hers, but she showed 
 no fear, though a repulsive leer had come over his 
 features. 
 
 " Such fair body as yours was ne'er meant for the 
 rope or block, Marcelle," he said, " nor shall it meet such 
 end. Yet, in truth, I saw not how 'twas to be avoided 
 
 304
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 till your own words mad though they were gave me 
 the clew. Even I, with the power I hope to gain, might 
 not claim the life of Marcelle the Mad. But you have 
 said that she was dead. So be it; let it be thought so. 
 For a week you've not been seen abroad, and enough 
 women have already been killed to make it no strange 
 matter. Petite Maman and the others will swear to the 
 lie to save you and to oblige me. In two days' time all 
 in Dinant will believe the tale, for we'll take care to 
 spread the news far and wide." 
 
 " While I remain alive to prove its untruth," said 
 Marcelle coldly. " Oh, leave me, Crepin ; I have no mind 
 for what you say ! " 
 
 " Yet you shall hear me," he answered fiercely. 
 " Think you I am so mad as to suggest your remaining 
 here as you are? No! That the report we spread may 
 receive credence, you shall disappear as completely as 
 though, in truth, you were dead. This night shall you 
 leave here and go to the house of Jacques Rochet. The 
 Burgundians will not search there; I'll swear to that; 
 and if I may not save Marcelle the Mad they will scarce 
 deny me the life of a common wench, such as Rochet's 
 sister, for example." 
 
 Under his words she had surely been shaking off her 
 stupor, and with the change her old horror of the man 
 possessed her. He had touched the only chord, per- 
 chance, that could so have roused her, and would now 
 find that his conquest was not to be so light a matter. 
 
 " And the price for this great service is the same 
 as you before exacted ? " she asked. 
 
 In his eagerness the man took no note of her tone, 
 which should have warned him of trouble ahead. 
 
 " What else should it be ? " he said. " If I give you 
 life, 'tis that I may enjoy it with you. Long have I 
 
 305
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 sought some return of the love I bear you, Marcelle; 
 and I make you fair enough offer. From to-night you be- 
 come mine, body and soul mine to do with as I choose 
 or else you shall have such mercy as the Burgundian 
 shall award you. If my arms may not embrace you, then 
 it shall be the rasping coil of the noose. Choose ! " 
 
 She rose and faced him, and he paused even as his 
 hand would have fallen upon her; paused with sudden 
 surprise at the new light in her eye. 
 
 " Fiend though you are, thank God that you came to 
 me this night," she cried, " for the very brute in you has 
 snatched me from the horrid depths to which I had come ! 
 You offer me life as though 'twas something for which 
 I craved. Fool, you know not that this very moment 
 should death come upon me I would welcome it gladly, 
 and if I have understood not how to live, I shall know 
 how to die. Go, Crepin Brune, go to the vile business 
 that calls you forth. Naught may I put in your way, 
 for the race of Marcelle is run and none are left to 
 answer her wishes. Your own miserable life you would 
 save by sacrificing two men whom you ne'er would risk 
 meeting in fair fight. But, ah! go, go! For the very 
 sight of your scurvy face fills me with loathing ! " 
 
 In truth, the man's expression was such as to turn 
 one from it, and for a moment so choking was his rage 
 that he might not speak; then it burst from him in a 
 flood. 
 
 " Then so be it! " he roared. " Since you prefer this 
 death, by God! you shall have it; but first you shall 
 know what it is to oppose me now ! You spurn the offer 
 I made you, as though we were still in the hills and you 
 had choice. Ha! We shall see! This night shall you 
 go to Rochet's house, willing or no, and there we shall 
 find a way to tame you, methinks." 
 
 306
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 He took a step toward the door, but even as his hand 
 would have fallen on the catch, it opened and the Lady 
 Agathe faced him. 
 
 High above her head she bore a heavy brass candle- 
 stick, the candle still burning in its socket, and ere Crepin 
 divined her intention she hurled it full at his head. He 
 instinctively ducked and the flying metal missed him by 
 the merest fraction. 
 
 Marcelle looked on dumfounded by this sudden on- 
 slaught. She had believed the Lady Agathe incapable 
 of raising a hand, even in her own defence ; but now in 
 her blue eyes there was a glitter that for a moment made 
 Crepin recoil. 
 
 The next instant she was at Marcelle's side and her 
 arm had encircled the slight form. 
 
 " I have heard, dear heart," she cried ; " but he shall 
 not do it ! God will not let it be so ! " 
 
 Crepin crossed the room and stamped out the light 
 of the fallen candle. 
 
 " Ha ! " he sneered. " It seems, my fine lady, that 
 you have learned something of fury in the Ardennes. 
 A little more and methinks you would have put out my 
 light. I search no quarrel with you; but do you keep 
 your hands off my affairs, or " 
 
 Ere he might assign the penalty a loud shouting 
 arose without ; then the scuffling of feet upon the gravel 
 path, and the sharp clash of steel. 
 
 Crepin ran to the door and threw it open, and, as he 
 did so, the Sieur Giraud staggered up the steps as though 
 to seek asylum within. They all saw him plainly in 
 the light, yet 'tis doubtful if he saw as clearly, for 
 blood was pouring into his eyes from a gash in his 
 forehead. The next instant two figures leaped upon him 
 from behind and threw him heavily backward. 
 
 307
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Even as he fell, Jacques Rochet ran up the steps. 
 
 " Faith, 'tis like the chase itself ! " he cried. " You'll 
 get as much game by letting it come to you as by seek- 
 ing it. The fools ran straight into our arms; but curse 
 them, two of our men are down ! " 
 
 A groan from the pathway bore witness to this state- 
 ment. 
 
 " But the other, the old man Tite ? " cried Crepin. 
 
 "The devil seize him; he got clean away when we 
 came between the two ! " answered Rochet. 
 
 " Well, 'tis small matter, for 'tis this Sieur Giraud 
 we want most," said Crepin in high spirits. " See that 
 he gives you not the slip." 
 
 " Never fear," was the reply. " The fight's out of 
 him for a while, and he'll not get out from under the 
 four that hold him now." 
 
 They both peered into the darkness and laughed. 
 Then Crepin turned upon the women. 
 
 " Methinks we've robbed you of a call," he sneered, 
 " for I know not what else should have brought them 
 here so opportunely. For a short time I must leave you 
 to see that the Sieur Giraud is housed as becomes his 
 station; but within an hour I shall be back. Lest you 
 quit the house, I'll leave two men here and, Marcelle, 
 do you gather such things as you need, for at my friend 
 Rochet's you shall sleep this night." 
 
 With a coarse laugh he slammed the door behind 
 him, and the two women, listening, heard the party stum- 
 bling about the grounds for some moments ; heard the 
 measured tread of footsteps as they moved away, and 
 then all was still, save for the crunching of gravel be- 
 neath the feet of the man left before the house. 
 
 " O God ! Is there no way out ? " cried the Lady 
 Agathe. 
 
 308
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 " None ! " answered Marcelle as she turned and en- 
 tered her room. " Yet I shall not go to Rochet's house, 
 Agathe." 
 
 She stooped, and from beneath her pillow drew forth 
 a knife in its leather sheath. 
 
 " I shall know how to use it, fear not, Agathe," she 
 said. " God knows, I have meditated such use often 
 enough in these past few days ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, no, Marcelle ! " cried the other. " Yet- 
 yet better that than this thing that threatens you." 
 
 " Yes," answered Marcelle simply. 
 
 And so they waited in silence, starting at every 
 sound without; but of the two, the hand of Marcelle 
 was the steadier, and her eye was clear with resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 For hours, it seemed, they sat there huddled in each 
 other's arms; yet, in truth, it was less than the half 
 of one. Then suddenly there came the sound of scratch- 
 ing upon the door. 
 
 " Marcelle ! My lady ! Let me in ! " 
 
 It was but a hoarse whisper, but it brought them to 
 their feet with a bound, for, praise God! it was the 
 voice of Tite plain enough. A second later he stood 
 before them. 
 
 " By St. Hubert, a fine mess we've made of it this 
 night ! " he cried. " But come ; 'tis left for me to do 
 what the two of us set out for, not an hour since, and 
 there's no time to lose. We've got gold or I have 
 now no matter how we had it. Ask no man if he's a 
 thief in Dinant to-night. The magistrates have sent the 
 keys of the town to the Count de Charolais and the 
 gates are open. We may buy the right to leave Dinant 
 if we move quickly and before any of my lords come 
 up, for the archers of Burgundy have the same love of 
 
 309
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 gold as the rest of us. Come ! They have not yet en- 
 tered the citadel, and '.tis a fair chance." 
 
 " Oh, thank God! " cried the Lady Agathe. " Come, 
 Marcelle ! But what of the guard before the house ? " 
 she added, turning to Tite. 
 
 " He'll not detain you," he replied grimly, and half 
 drew his knife so that they saw the red upon it. 
 
 " Then come, Marcelle, come ! " cried the Lady 
 Agathe with a shudder. 
 
 But Marcelle made no move. 
 
 " No, I shall not leave Dinant," she said, " for now 
 my work is clear before me." 
 
 " Not leave Dinant ? " cried Tite. 
 
 " No, I shall stay for what I have to do," she an- 
 swered quietly. " Something seems to have been lifted 
 from my head and I have come from out the haze 
 wherein I dreamt. Yet I must fly from here, or or 
 Crepin will return to seize me. Tite, Tite, take me from 
 here somewhere, anywhere. 'Tis the last favour Mar- 
 celle e'er will ask of you." 
 
 She clutched his hand distractedly. 
 
 A moment the old man hesitated, dumfounded by 
 her words ; then he shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " A long time has your will been mine, Marcelle," 
 he said, " too long to suffer change now. It shall be 
 as you wish, though the devil only knows what possesses 
 you. Come, then ; I will take you to Madame Vaucler's. 
 If her house hides you as well as it has the Sieur Gi- 
 raud and me, 'twill serve your needs." 
 
 Thus did Tite thrust behind him the hopes of escape 
 which he, as much as any, had cause to cherish, and the 
 Lady Agathe said no further word. 
 
 " God bless you, Tite ! " cried Marcelle, and wrung 
 his hand. 
 
 310
 
 FROM OUT THE HAZE 
 
 The next moment the three stole silently into the 
 street, so silently that the guard at the rear took no 
 alarm. 
 
 Yet it was a full hour ere they reached Madame 
 Vaucler's, for Tite would proceed only when they had 
 clear field, and ofttimes made them halt in some shadow 
 till he was satisfied of this. 
 
 As they mounted the steps a gun thundered heavily 
 from the plain. 
 
 The Marshal of Burgundy had entered the citadel. 
 
 Adieu now all thought of escape!
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 A BREAK IN THE LINES 
 
 THUS, without a final struggle with the Bur- 
 gundian host; without forcing upon them the 
 storming of those walls which had been so bat- 
 tered to their foundations, did the people of 
 Dinant throw themselves upon the mercy of their foe. 
 
 Mercy! They would soon see how such was meted 
 out to them. The mischief had been done. The wanton, 
 riotous mob had fled, bequeathing to those they left be- 
 hind the terrible legacy of settlement with the House of 
 Burgundy. Leagues away in the fastnesses of the 
 Ardennes skulked these outlaw bands, straining their 
 gaze from the hilltops to note the outcome of the ruin 
 they had wrought, and ready to return should the 
 wretched inhabitants make their peace. 
 
 Alas, for those left with such a debt to meet ! Better 
 they might have laid down their lives in their own streets 
 in strife with these renegades than so to have incurred 
 the hatred of the Duke of Burgundy and that last grim 
 and towering figure of the Dark Ages, the Count de 
 Charolais. 
 
 Yet now, with the prey well within his toils, Count 
 Charles moved in a slow and deliberate fashion that 
 accorded well with his cold-blooded intent. Moreover, 
 Monseigneur had arrived from Bouvignes, and their two 
 heads were often together, for there was much detail to 
 be gone over in the design they meditated. 
 
 312
 
 A BREAK IN THE LINES 
 
 For two days then, save for the advance guard which 
 Count Charles had thrown into the citadel, no Burgun- 
 dians entered within the gates. Yet with these first comers 
 the townspeople had a foretaste of what lay before them, 
 for scarce had midnight sounded when they broke from 
 control and poured through the streets in search of spoil. 
 From that moment, by night and by day, no man's house 
 was free from their raids, and the streets they held to 
 themselves, for none would venture abroad in the swag- 
 gering throng, dreading the sharp prod of a sword or 
 the playful lance-thrust which always attended the meet- 
 ing of Burgundian and man of Dinant. 
 
 To this search .for plunder Count Charles made no 
 scruple ; but for offences against the women of the town 
 his rage knew no bounds. Three archers of his own 
 guard found guilty of such wrong were hung before the 
 very houses they had entered, their chains clanking 
 ominous warning to any others so disposed. 
 
 On the third day after the surrender of the town, 
 Monseigneur again betook himself to Bouvignes. The 
 plan had been determined to the smallest item, and its 
 execution he confidently left to his son. Moreover, 
 shaken with age and illness, he had no mind for too close 
 contact with what was to follow. 
 
 Far over the plain, before the gates, extended the 
 Burgundian forces. Each day the van had moved a little 
 nearer, and now, with the departure of Monseigneur, the 
 blare of trumpets called them to arms. 
 
 The morning was bright and clear and the summer 
 sun danced gaily from helm to breastplate, and from 
 lance-head to pike, as the vast concourse took up its 
 march toward the gates. From their platforms the huge, 
 brazen bombards grinned open-mouthed at the spectacle, 
 yet shone as with a dull reddened resentment that the
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 monstrous breach they had effected was not to be turned 
 to account. 
 
 In the van of the advancing troops, as they entered the 
 gates, rode the Count de St. Pol in the midst of a re- 
 splendent staff. Behind him, rank on rank, marched 
 masses of light-footed archers, their brilliant tunics and 
 plumed caps a sea of nodding colour, and their lusty 
 voices roaring forth song that alike drowned drum and 
 trumpet. 
 
 Following these cavorted a gleaming cavalcade be- 
 neath a waving surge of banners emblazoned with the 
 emblems of the states owning allegiance to the House of 
 Burgundy. And what a host of these there were; to 
 what far-away districts had this summons of fire and 
 sword penetrated, and there been obeyed ! Brabant, Lim- 
 bourg, Luxembourg, Flanders, Artois these would 
 have been looked for in any Burgundian muster ; but, in 
 truth, Count Charles had meant no half measures, for 
 mingling their folds with these fluttered the standards of 
 Hainault, Holland, Zealand, Namur, Friesland, and Ma- 
 lines. And in the centre, towering above them all, reared 
 the dreaded oriflamme of the House of Burgundy. 
 
 Close behind, with his eyes fixed on this token of his 
 lineage, rode the Count de Charolais. The cowering 
 people who now had ventured forth could read no sign of 
 his intent in his cold, implacable look. Over his armour 
 fell a heavy mantle, its velvet folds flashing with gems 
 and weighted down with the great golden Cross of St. 
 Andrew that gleamed upon its front. Beside his mas- 
 sive frame those who rode with him were lost sight of, 
 for it was he, and he alone, who held the fate of these 
 people in his hand. 
 
 Bringing up the rear came the nobles and pages of 
 the household, and then squadron after squadron of 
 
 3H
 
 A BREAK IN THE LINES 
 
 men-at-arms, till the earth trembled with the tread 
 of their mounts, and the ear hummed with the clash of 
 steel and the jingle of spur. 
 
 As the last file passed, the great gates swung heavily 
 to behind them. For Dinant the hour of retribution had 
 come. 
 
 And now every house in Dinant had its quota of 
 these inVaders to shelter, and plunder was renewed with 
 tenfold force. As for the Count de Charolais, never 
 for one moment did he lose sight of the terrible oath he 
 had sworn against this town and the awful end he had 
 in view. 
 
 The chief men of Dinant waited upon him with 
 prayerful, frenzied appeal for clemency. His answer 
 was to order them bound together and cast into the 
 Meuse, and in the day following his entrance wellnigh 
 a thousand shrieking wretches had gone to follow them. 
 
 Reward without stint he promised for the capture of 
 Gaspard Lenoir, freely offering a hundred lives in ex- 
 change, and no house escaped his search. Yet, desperate 
 and willing as they were, the people might only shake 
 their heads and point to the hills. The man had been 
 driven from the town and only the Ardennes wood might 
 give him up. Chagrin at failure to lay hands on this cul- 
 prit served to spur Count Charles on to the consumma- 
 tion of his task. 
 
 Such little order as he had maintained he now aban- 
 doned. The right of the men to plunder was granted 
 or overlooked, but never did he relax his interdict for 
 the protection of the women. Amid all the scenes of 
 carnage and desolation they were as secure from injury 
 as though the Burgundians never had entered the town. 
 But no man escaped his vengeance. With each one a 
 price was set. If it was forthcoming he was driven to 
 21 315
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 the gates and allowed to depart ; if not, he was taken to 
 the market-place and sold into slavery to the highest 
 bidder. For a crown four of these miserable beings 
 could be bought by one who watched the market closely. 
 
 And then, two days after his entrance, Count Charles 
 issued his last proclamation. Dinant was to disappear 
 from the face of the earth; walls, towers, houses, 
 churches, not one of these should be left standing, but 
 stone by stone levelled to the ground and the fragments 
 borne away. Never again would defiance and insult to 
 his house come from Dinant. 
 
 The women and children would be allowed to seek 
 such asylum as they might find in Liege, and should have 
 fit escort thither. The men should follow their new 
 masters into slavery. Husband should be torn from wife, 
 father from children, and all scattered abroad over the 
 land, living examples of the folly they had committed. 
 
 One heart-rending wail arose from the stricken people 
 as they listened to the heralds' pronouncement of this. 
 God knows what such a fate meant for most of these 
 women driven from home without friend or any who 
 might do aught for them ! 
 
 The piteous cry arose to the room in the town-hall 
 where Count Charles sat in conference with the con- 
 stable; but not by one muscle did his stern features 
 change. An aide placed a parchment before him, and, 
 glancing it over, he rapidly scrawled his name thereto. 
 It was an order directing the assembly of the women and 
 their departure that very afternoon at the hour of four. 
 
 In the gloom of Rochet's cellar, chained to opposite 
 sides of the wall, one might have thought the Sieur 
 Giraud and Monsieur Vignolles in sad position to learn 
 aught of all this. Yet only one would have thought so 
 
 316
 
 A BREAK IN THE LINES 
 
 who knew not the nature of Crepin Brune. To leave 
 these two to their own reflections or such talk as they 
 might find was to make too great a sacrifice of pleas- 
 ure, and the man could no sooner have refrained from 
 taunting them with their approaching end than he 
 could have done an honest deed. Therefore he had 
 taken care to keep them well informed of the progress 
 of affairs. 
 
 He had sought audience with Count Charles on the 
 day of his entrance, but in the stress of other matters 
 the count had had no mind for him. 
 
 A half -score Burgundian troopers had been quartered 
 upon Rochet, and he had been for turning the prisoners 
 over to them. But Crepin would hear naught of it and 
 imposed secrecy on his followers, for he had no mind to 
 lose any part of the credit and reward he saw before 
 him. By his direction the Burgundians were received 
 with open arms, and with plentiful supplies of liquor 
 kept in good humour. Nor had these men any thought 
 of plunder, for Crepin, Rochet, and the rest were little 
 short of vagabonds who lived from hand to mouth. 
 Therefore they never thought of searching the house, 
 as otherwise they would have done. Often the noise of 
 their carousals penetrated to the cellar. 
 
 One thing alone was of some solace to the two in 
 their cheerless prison, and that was the knowledge that 
 whatever else might have overtaken the Lady Agathe 
 and Marcelle, at all events Crepin knew naught of them. 
 Else they made no doubt he scarce would have refrained 
 from mentioning it as something with which still further 
 to harry them. 
 
 On the day set for the departure of the women 
 Crepin had omitted his usual visit to them. At noon 
 one of the men had entered and thrust a loaf and some 
 
 317
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 water within reach of them and then taken himself off 
 without a word. 
 
 The house had become strangely silent as the after- 
 noon wore on, and they were idly speculating as to the 
 cause when suddenly there came a loud tramping of feet 
 overhead, and, a moment later, the rickety stairs leading 
 to the cellar groaned with the descent of a body of men. 
 The heavy bars before the door fell with a clatter and the 
 light of a lantern streamed within. 
 
 This latter swung from the arm of Crepin, and be- 
 hind him came Captain Chaubran and a dozen archers 
 of the guard. 
 
 " There, captain, is your game," said Crepin glee- 
 fully, extending the lantern so that its rays first fell upon 
 the Sieur Giraud, then on Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 "Saints! the pen is close enough!" cried Chaubran, 
 and sniffed the air with much disrelish, then turned to 
 the Sieur Giraud, " Ha, we meet again, it seems, Sieur 
 Giraud! Last time you wellnigh did for me yonder in 
 the hills ; but I've no license to square matters. You both 
 go to settle your account with one who outranks me." 
 
 Neither made any reply. Too often had they looked 
 forward to this hour spoken hopelessly of it to have 
 any mind for this fool's words. 
 
 " Strike off their irons ! " went on Chaubran, seeing 
 that they paid no heed, and some of the men fell to cut- 
 ting the rivets that bound them. 
 
 But Crepin's joy permitted no quiet. 
 
 " Remember the lash remember the lash I had the 
 first day you came to the camp," he sneered at the Sieur 
 Giraud. " Ha ! I told you I'd ne'er forget those welts. 
 Perchance, also, you'll have mind for that night above- 
 stairs when you wellnigh did for me, even as the captain 
 says you served him. But times are changed, eh? I
 
 A BREAK IN THE LINES 
 
 have seen, I have talked with Charl with the Count de 
 Charolais, and this is my hour ! " 
 
 " The devil choke you with your own tongue ! " cried 
 Chaubran. " The man has enough to face without your 
 gibing! " and, turning to the other, " Saints! think not I 
 hold such spite myself, Sieur Giraud, for, by my faith, 
 were matters different, we'd settle our affair above-board 
 and with the sword, not with such ill-natured ranting as 
 this dog does utter ! " 
 
 " I thank you, captain," answered the Sieur Giraud, 
 as his irons fell from him, " but methinks we shall 
 scarce have opportunity for the sport you suggest. You 
 come to take us before my lord count, I make no doubt. 
 Let us then be on our way." 
 
 " Ay, captain," joined in Monsieur Vignolles, " and 
 thank God for the sight of an honest face again and the 
 chance of a breath of air from heaven. Lead on ! " 
 
 Chaubran looked hard into their faces and shook his 
 head as though the task were little to his taste, then gave 
 the order to withdraw. Slowly the party mounted the 
 stairs, traversed the house, and set forth up the street; 
 slowly, because those men they escorted might not take 
 more rapid pace. Of the two, Monsieur Vignolles was 
 the weaker from his longer confinement, and leaned 
 heavily upon the shoulders of the Sieur Giraud. Yet 
 within the cordon of archers about them they both car- 
 ried their heads high enough, and those in the surround- 
 ing crowd of soldiery who would have jeered fell silent 
 at the sight. Many there were, too, who knew them 
 who had served with the one or the other and to these 
 there was naught pleasing in the sight of these stagger- 
 ing, wounded men going to their doom. 
 
 But close behind marched Crepin with his straggling 
 band, and to them the sight was very good. 
 
 319
 
 Straight toward the market-place Chaubran led the 
 way, his archers thrusting the curious back with small 
 ceremony, and ere long they debouched from the nar- 
 row street into the square. A double line of archers 
 and foot-soldiers held it on all sides ; but at Chaubran's 
 word, those before him gave way long enough for his 
 party to pass through. 
 
 Before the steps of the town-hall the Count de Charo- 
 lais and the constable sat motionless as statues in their 
 saddles, and some paces from them the staff looked on 
 in silence. In truth, a very hush had fallen over the 
 place, save for the stamping of some iron-shod hoof, or 
 the clink of a curb chain as a charger tossed up his 
 head. 
 
 Directly before Count Charles, Chaubran halted 
 his men and, saluting, fell back a pace so that his prison- 
 ers stood alone. Crepin edged his way forward, till he 
 came to stand beside them. 
 
 With one accord the two captives sank to their 
 knees before him who had been their master. 
 
 Count Charles turned to the constable. 
 
 "At all events the knave lied not to me, my lord 
 constable," he said, " for here are the very men he swore 
 to deliver." Then to the kneeling figures before him, 
 " Rise, you dogs, for I would look into your faces ! " 
 
 Slowly they rose ; but there was naught in the steady 
 look of either in which Count Charles could read the 
 guilt for which he scanned their faces. 
 
 " Miserable creatures," went on Count Charles 
 harshly, " I have had you brought before me, ere you 
 paid the penalty of your crimes, that all might see the 
 treatment I accord a recreant vassal, no matter what his 
 position once may have been. You, Monsieur Vignolles, 
 have merited death, in that, failing in a duty set you, 
 
 320
 
 A BREAK IN THE LINES 
 
 you chose to desert your standard and to cast your lot 
 with a ragged band of hill cut-throats. As for you, 
 Sieur Giraud d'Orson, mere death is inadequate to ex- 
 piate your wrong, for not only did you join these cursed 
 Companions of the Green Tent, but you conspired against 
 my life." 
 
 " My lord count, that is a lie ! " cried the Sieur Gi- 
 raud, for men in his case stop not to weigh words. 
 " Ne'er had I aught to do with such vile attempt " 
 
 " Silence ! " roared the count. " And have more 
 heed how you speak, lest I cut you down where you 
 stand. Ha! I marvel not you should try to save your 
 scurvy life with lies, but I hold the proof of what I 
 say. The letter that called me to the vine-grower's you 
 will scarce deny your own hand, for I know it too well 
 to make error." 
 
 " Before God, my lord count, ne'er did I make such 
 request of you ! " cried the Sieur Giraud. " I begged 
 only that you would accord me an early audience." 
 
 Count Charles shook his head angrily. 
 
 " I tell you your lies are of no avail," he said sharply. 
 " I hold the letter and am fully aware of its contents. 
 Moreover, to see the consummation of your design, you 
 came to the vine-grower's you and monsieur there." 
 
 " My lord count, I deny it not ; but this is all some 
 poisonous tale of this knave Crepin Brune. Search you 
 the one who drew bow upon you that day ? Then search 
 no longer, for he it was, and he alone, who did meditate 
 your death." 
 
 " That I know," answered the count sharply, and the 
 hearts of the two men before him fell within them. 
 
 The Count de Charolais knew that Crepin had sought 
 his life, yet spared him because he had delivered them 
 into his power. In truth, then, where was the good in 
 
 321
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 further speech, since their doom was so irrevocably 
 sealed ? 
 
 The Sieur Giraud threw up his head and looked 
 Count Charles full in the face. 
 
 " My . lord count, for some years did I serve you 
 and faithfully. For the disobedience I was guilty of I 
 have paid, God knows, dearly enough ; and I am reduced 
 to naught. But, for all I have become, I pit not my word 
 against that of a self-confessed and would-be assassin, 
 nor, methinks, will Monsieur Vignolles. Let this mock- 
 ery be ended, and give us the death you have decided on, 
 rather than this dishonour." 
 
 A moment the count hesitated, then shrugged his 
 great shoulders. 
 
 " The speech of a man from a rogue's lips," he mut- 
 tered. " Yet did I not know were the proof less strong 
 but, bah! 'Tis not strange a man should fight hard 
 for life." Then turning upon them, " So shall you have 
 the punishment suited to your crimes; yet first one 
 thing I would know of you. The Lady Agathe was taken 
 by your band of Companions, and afterward came to 
 Dinant. With her was lodged the mad woman of the 
 Ardennes, whom I would give much to lay hands on. 
 Know you aught of their whereabouts?" 
 
 The two exchanged quick glances and felt their 
 hearts leap high within them. Thank God, whatever 
 their own end might be, neither the Lady Agathe nor 
 Marcelle had been discovered to drag before this aw- 
 ful tribunal! 
 
 " Speak, fools ! " cried Count Charles in anger. " I 
 am in no mood for trifling ! " 
 
 But not a word came from them in reply. Both knew 
 that Crepin must have informed the count of the pres- 
 ence of the women at the widow Galiot's house. Both 
 
 322
 
 A BREAK IN THE LINES 
 
 now realised that they had fled there and taken to some 
 other hiding-place. Was it possible that Tite alone had 
 effected what he and the Sieur Giraud had contemplated ? 
 If so, ne'er should hint of it leave their lips. 
 
 " Stubborn knaves you are ! " cried the count. " You 
 would hold a still tongue, hoping for some reward; but 
 that, by all the saints, you may not expect. I shall find 
 these women, never fear, if Dinant holds them. As for 
 you, my sentence is that you be bound together, you who 
 are so fond of the same company, and that you be cast 
 into the Meuse. A fitting end this is for one who has 
 been a soldier! Perchance you will find some of your 
 dear Companions waiting to welcome you beneath the 
 waters yonder." 
 
 "If one dies, what matters the manner of death?" 
 said Monsieur Vignolles. "As for the company, I ask 
 no better," and with that he laid his hand on the Sieur 
 Giraud's shoulder. 
 
 On a sign from the count, some foot-soldiers ap- 
 proached them quickly, one bearing a coil of rope. 
 
 Count Charles turned to speak to the constable. 
 
 As for Crepin, he grinned broadly from ear to ear. 
 His hour, indeed, had come, and his eyes seemed glued 
 to the rope the men carried. 
 
 The first man extended his hand roughly and drew 
 the Sieur Giraud and Monsieur Vignolles together, back 
 to back ; then reached for the rope. As he did so, a dis- 
 turbance arose on one side of the square of troops; a 
 muffled shouting, and then through a break in the lines 
 were dragged three figures. 
 
 Chaubran saluted and ran to the spot, while the rest 
 remained speechless with amazement. For the three, 
 whom Chaubran met half-way to the lines, were the 
 Lady Agathe, Marcelle, and Tite. 
 
 3 2 3
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 DAUPHINE! 
 
 A LOWERING frown contorted the brows of 
 Count Charles, and he raised his hand to 
 check the interruption, then shrugged his 
 huge shoulders as though thinking better of 
 it, and waited with his dark gaze bent on the approach- 
 ing party. 
 
 The Lady Agathe still wore the velvet attire she had 
 adopted on coining to the Companions, and, though she 
 was pale, walked firmly enough. Beside her Marcelle 
 seemed almost puny, and her face was ghastly white, 
 so that her great eyes seemed even larger than usual. 
 Despite the fact that the day was warm, she shivered 
 beneath the cloak that fell about her and trailed upon 
 the ground. It was the property of Tite, and many 
 sizes too large. As for Tite, he looked neither to right 
 nor left as he marched stolidly along, yet his brow was 
 wrinkled and perchance his figure not quite as erect as 
 of ordinary. 
 
 Crepin's face suddenly lost its grin. What meant 
 this new development? Why was Marcelle, whom they 
 had so vainly sought, thrusting herself into the count's 
 hands? 
 
 "By all the saints, 'tis the Lady Agathe!" ex- 
 claimed Count Charles, recognising her when she was 
 near at hand. 
 
 The constable spurred his mount a pace nearer. 
 324
 
 DAUPHINE 
 
 " But tell me not this insignificant creature with her 
 is the mad woman of the Ardennes ! " he cried. " If so, 
 the devil is wrapped up in small enough compass. Cap- 
 tain Chaubran, is this the woman you saw in the hills ? " 
 
 Chaubran saluted. 
 
 " This is Marcelle the Mad, my lord count," he 
 answered, and indicated her with the point of his sword. 
 
 A frown crossed the face of the Count de Charolais. 
 Had he had to deal with such a woman as he had 
 imagined Marcelle, he would have felt the ground sure 
 beneath him, but this slight figure seemed to him almost 
 wraith-like, and he scarce knew how to begin. 
 
 " It is true, my lord count ; I am Marcelle." 
 
 She herself had given him the lead, yet still when he 
 spoke there was a certain mistrust in his tone, as though 
 he doubted the evidence of his own senses. 
 
 "By Our Lady, I can scarce believe it!" he mut- 
 tered, then spoke aloud, " You have well eluded the 
 search that has been made for you, woman. In what 
 remote place have you and the Lady Agathe lain hid 
 these two days?" 
 
 A faint smile hovered over her features for a moment, 
 and her eyes were soft with a great love as she turned 
 and looked at Tite. Then, again, she gazed full into the 
 face of Count Charles. 
 
 " No merit is it of mine that you have sought us in 
 vain, my lord count," she said, " but rather of this dear 
 heart here, who has risked his life that none might sus- 
 pect our retreat." 
 
 She laid her hand softly on Tite's shoulder, then 
 went on quickly: 
 
 " Nor was this so remote as you think, since under 
 the same roof have been quartered Captain Chaubran 
 and some half-dozen of his men." 
 
 325
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 Chaubran started forward and would have spoken, 
 but the count raised his hand angrily. 
 
 "So, 'tis thus I am served!" he cried. "By my 
 faith, if this be true, you are little better than a fool, 
 captain! Where have your quarters been?" 
 
 " At the house of a wench named Vaucler, in 
 the Rue Violette a wench without a sou, my lord 
 count " 
 
 Count Charles swore a fearful oath. 
 
 "Ay, 'tis that, you fool!" he cried. "Let any one 
 of you catch the clink of gold and there is no crevice 
 that may escape your prying. Too busy have you been 
 elsewhere to have eye for the treasure that lay under 
 your very nose, and a fine chance it is that you have lost. 
 Saints, Captain Chaubran, you would be the better for 
 a keeper, since three people may lie hid in the same 
 house with you ! " 
 
 Chaubran hung his head in some shame at the 
 biting tone used toward him, then made essay to better 
 matters. . 
 
 " Three of them were not hid, my lord count," he 
 said humbly, " for this old man I do recall now, though 
 he wears not the same look. 'Tis the brother of the 
 woman Vaucler, so she said, who had become crack- 
 brained with age, and fancied himself a dog. A driv- 
 elling imbecile he was, forsooth, who slept on straw in 
 a wretched loft above, and barked and spat in the face 
 of any who ventured near his ladder. Saints! 'tis not 
 I who would approach such beast, for 'tis the kind that 
 possess the touch of the Evil One. Yet the man is not 
 the same now, and I knew him not at first sight." 
 
 He looked intently at Tite, and over the face of the 
 latter came a grim smile. 
 
 " Ha! Small doubt which of the two of you was the 
 326
 
 DAUPHINf 
 
 imbecile!" said Count Charles, and waved Chaubran 
 aside. " As for you, old man," he went on to Tite, 
 " we shall find a way to quiet that bark of yours, me- 
 thinks." 
 
 Then he again turned to Marcelle. 
 
 " Sooner or later I would have found you, in any 
 case," he said sharply; "yet I see not why you should 
 come to seek the death that awaits you, woman. Mad 
 as you call yourself, you can scarce hope for aught 
 else." 
 
 Her answer came quick and sure. 
 
 " No, my lord count ; I come not to plead for a 
 mercy I may not expect. Full well do I know that my 
 blood alone may atone for such enmity as I have borne 
 your house. Freely do I confess my offence, and will- 
 ingly shall I discharge my debt, for I have no wish to 
 live. But first I would meet another obligation that 
 God imposes upon me, the obligation to acquit the fair 
 name of two men as unjustly accused as e'er were men 
 in this world." 
 
 She paused and extended her hand toward the Sieur 
 Giraud and Monsieur Vignolles. 
 
 Crepin's face went white with the fear that now 
 swept over him,, as he heard the measured words fall 
 from her lips. 
 
 " You undertake more than you can accomplish, 
 woman," said Count Charles. " The proofs are too clear 
 to admit of doubt." 
 
 " Yet I pray that you will hear me, my lord count," 
 she answered, " for 'tis for this hour alone I have wished 
 to live; and surely, 'tis small favour to grant one who 
 dies so soon." 
 
 A groan burst from Tite, and the tears coursed down 
 his furrowed cheeks. 
 
 327
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 "Proceed!" said the count coldly. "I will hear 
 your tale." 
 
 Marcelle inclined her head in thanks, then went on 
 quickly: 
 
 " Then must I take you back to a day over a fortnight 
 ago, my lord count a day when, in the hills yonder, I 
 overheard talk between two men, who plotted against 
 your life. One of these men was of my own band, 
 Crepin Brune here; the other came from your own 
 camp at Namur." 
 
 " Ay, the Sieur Giraud d'Orson ! " exclaimed Count 
 Charles. 
 
 " No ; for then he had been some days with us," she 
 answered. " The man was one I ne'er had seen before, 
 and he came at the behest of some one high in power, 
 since he spoke of his master as ' my lord.' " 
 
 "Ha! This begins to be of interest!" cried the 
 count. 
 
 The constable bent forward to adjust his stirrup 
 leather. 
 
 " There, with naught between us save a screen of 
 green leaves, I heard the plan arranged that was to do 
 you to death," continued Marcelle. " The Sieur Giraud 
 was to be induced by Crepin Brune to write you a letter, 
 praying for an interview on the ground that he could 
 deliver Gaspard Lenoir into your hands. That, you 
 know, my lord count; but you know not that the ap- 
 pointment at the vine-grower's was added by this man 
 who came to the hills that day." 
 
 " By God, there is a ring of truth in what this woman 
 says, my lord ! " exclaimed the count, turning to the 
 constable. " Noted you aught in that letter that would 
 indicate that two hands had written it ? " 
 
 The constable shook his head. 
 328
 
 DAUPHINE 
 
 " My lord count, the woman is lying ! " whined Cre- 
 pin. " 'Twas the Sieur Giraud and none other, as I 
 told you, who " 
 
 " Silence ! " cried the count, and motioned Marcelle 
 to proceed. 
 
 " In our camp, a little later, I saw the Sieur Giraud 
 write this letter," she went on; " I saw Crepin come to 
 him and the letter pass from one to the other, and I 
 know that 'twas given to the man from Namur, who 
 waited." 
 
 " With no hindrance from you, I'll be sworn," said 
 the count grimly. 
 
 " My lord count, I am not here to clear myself," she 
 answered. " No ; naught did I put in the way of this 
 plan, for then, above all things, did I desire its success. 
 But pray hear me out. At the vine-grower's you know 
 what happened. Crepin Brune was hid in the thicket, 
 and I with him, for I had stolen after him when he left 
 the camp. Through a broken bow-string, his design 
 failed; broken it was, because I, at a price that well- 
 nigh robbed me of honour, bought the privilege of re- 
 maining with him long enough to gnaw it nearly in 
 two." 
 
 Crepin gasped aloud. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud started forward and strained his 
 gaze upon her. 
 
 " Marcelle ! " he cried. " My God, how I have 
 wronged you ! " 
 
 A moment she looked at him, and smiled. 
 
 " You ask me to believe too much, woman," said the 
 count. " You have said that you burned with impa- 
 tience for my undoing, yet would have me believe that 
 two days later you saved my life." 
 
 " Ay, for in that time the Lady Agathe had come 
 
 329
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 into my life, and taught me that my way was not God's 
 way," replied Marcelle gently. " She showed me the 
 horror of this crime they planned, and brought a flood 
 of light upon me that ne'er had I seen before. To bring 
 her into the hills as I did was cruel, cruel; but, thank 
 God it was so, for through her the way has opened 
 clear before me ! " 
 
 The count looked searchingly at the Lady Agathe. 
 
 " It is God's truth she speaks, my lord count," she 
 said. " On the honour of my name, I swear it." 
 
 " Yet these two were present at the vine-grower's. 
 With my own eyes I saw them," he persisted, pointing 
 to the two men. 
 
 " Whither they had gone to make arrangement for 
 my lodging there till I might leave the country for 
 Dauphine," said the Lady Agathe. " That they hap- 
 pened there at such an hour was due, in the case 
 of the Sieur Giraud, to sheer chance. Monsieur Vi- 
 gnolles went, because of what I told him of this con- 
 spiracy, and to prevent it, if possible. For then I, too, 
 believed in the guilt of the Sieur Giraud." 
 
 Count Charles brought his hand heavily down upon 
 his pommel. 
 
 " By God, I do believe this tale ! " he cried. " Blind 
 have I been, in truth, since such hellish contrivance 
 could be hatched within my own lines. Yet not the ves- 
 tige of a clew is there on which I may lay my hand. 
 The man who came to the hills spoke of his master as 
 'my lord.' Saints! how many such are there within 
 my sight, even now ! " 
 
 He swept his hand toward the motionless staff, then 
 turned upon Crepin. 
 
 " Yet you know the name of this master your accom- 
 plice served," he roared. " Out with it ! " 
 
 330
 
 DAUPHINE 
 
 " Tis all a lie, my lord count!" cried Crepin. 
 " There was no such man." 
 
 He took the only course that offered him life. But 
 the sweat oozed from him at every pore. How different 
 his position from that he had thought by now to occupy. 
 
 The constable leaned over and muttered some words 
 in the count's ear. They had the effect of diverting his 
 attention again to Marcelle. 
 
 " Woman," he said, " I believe your tale, for the ring 
 of truth is in your voice, and it fits well with what I 
 know. And well it is for some of you others that it is. 
 so. Monsieur Vignolles, because I believe the Lady 
 Agathe's word that you would have prevented that 
 plot, you shall go free. As for you, my lady, you have, 
 it seems, chosen to consort with thieves rather than re- 
 turn to my protection. If you could have gone to the 
 vine-grower's, you as well could have gone to Namur; 
 but you avoided that because fearful of the marriage I 
 contemplated for you. So be it; the penalty shall be 
 fitting. Before the setting of the sun you shall wed 
 Monsieur Vignolles, for there is no worse punishment 
 than the joining of an ill-assorted pair. After that, be- 
 take yourselves to Dauphine, or where you will, for I'll 
 have none such as you at court." 
 
 " My lord " cried Monsieur Vignolles, looking up 
 from his knee, to which he had fallen. 
 
 Too great a joy was in his face to please the Lady 
 Agathe, and she interrupted him in some haste. 
 
 " Too much have I endured to withstand your will 
 longer, my lord count," she said demurely, and the 
 colour was high in her cheek. 
 
 " 'Tis well you are, at last, aware that my will is 
 not to be thwarted," he replied shortly, and turned to 
 Marcelle. 
 
 22 331
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 " Whatever you have been, woman, you shall not find 
 me ungrateful for the service you have rendered," he 
 said. " Some moments ago I would have laughed at 
 the idea of sparing this Marcelle the Mad. You have 
 earned your life. At the hour of four the women leave 
 the town. Join them. But for you, Sieur Giraud, I 
 have no mercy. You are not guilty of all that I had 
 thought; but you have well merited death by becoming 
 a very leader of these outlaws. Also, you saw fit to 
 lay hands on Captain Chaubran, and wellnigh throttle 
 him, when he went upon my service. For this you 
 shall die." 
 
 Marcelle gave a quick cry. 
 
 " My lord count, I seek not my life ! I pray you let 
 the Sieur Giraud go." 
 
 " I have spoken," he answered. 
 
 A moment she stood with the horror rising into her 
 face, then took a step toward him. 
 
 " Then, my lord count, since you demand this man's 
 life, I, too, demand fulfilment of your word," she cried. 
 " You have offered five-score lives for that of Gaspard 
 Lenoir. I ask but one, that of the Sieur Giraud d'Orson. 
 Your word you cannot break, my lord count, and here 
 here is the price you ask, Gaspard Lenoir himself." 
 
 With a quick jerk she threw the cloak from her 
 shoulders and, tossing her cap after it, shook the dark 
 mass of her hair about her face. 
 
 From coarse blouse to heavy shoes she was a replica 
 of that Lenoir who had addressed the people from the 
 steps of the town-hall, save for the bare upper lip and 
 some inexplicable change of feature. 
 
 For a time no one spoke, but stood gazing at the trans- 
 formation. 
 
 " Is this true ? " cried Count Charles finally. 
 332
 
 DAUPHINE 
 
 Tite groaned aloud. 
 
 " True it is, my lord count," he said. " I knew 
 naught of it myself till this day when she sent me to the 
 old witch's in the Rue Basse for the clothes. Oh, have 
 pity on her, my lord have pity ! Tis but a child ! " 
 
 " My lord count, I hold you to your word ! " cried 
 Marcelle. 
 
 " I pray you end all this, my lord," cried the Sieur 
 Giraud. " I will not have my life at such a price." 
 
 " God's truth, what hatred of my race what can in- 
 spire such hatred ? " exclaimed the count. 
 
 Marcelle looked him straight in the eye. 
 
 " You ask it ? Then shall you know, my lord count," 
 she answered. " Two years ago, in the palace at Bruges, 
 there was a Madame de Courtray a widow and her 
 daughter. Ah, I see you recall the name, though she was 
 but a humble needle-woman, and you ne'er laid eyes upon 
 her but once. Monseigneur had gone to take residence 
 at Hesdin, and you, my lord, held full sway at Bruges. 
 Let me pass over it quickly. You know how a certain 
 nobleman of the court, failing in his designs against this 
 poor woman, informed you the exact opposite. You 
 chose to believe his word rather than hers, and sent her 
 forth into the world, even as you are sending these other 
 women to-day. With the daughter, whom you had 
 never seen, she made her way to Liege, changing her 
 name to Lenoir, that the stain you had cast upon her 
 character might not pursue her. But always, always, it 
 gnawed at her heart, till a half-year ago she proved ready 
 prey for the fever then raging at Liege, and died in her 
 child's arms. I was that child, my lord count left alone 
 in the world with none to care whether I followed her or 
 not. By chance, an old woman who lives yonder in the 
 Rue Basse was in Liege at the time, and, rinding me 
 
 333
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 thus, brought me to Dinant. Here all hated your name, 
 and I more than any of them. In a mad moment the 
 thought of assuming man's attire struck me, for so I 
 might join the wretched rabble and go about with greater 
 safety, and the old woman showed me how to change my 
 features with chalks and made me a false growth of hair 
 for the lip. By night this served well enough, and ne'er 
 did I appear in such garb by day. You had driven my 
 mother forth with the worst stamp that may be set upon 
 woman, into poverty and death. Do you still marvel, my 
 lord count, that I should have raved against you ; that 
 I should willingly have sought your life, or that I should 
 have helped cast over the walls of Bouvignes that effigy 
 with its bar sinister? It was unwomanly and coarse, but, 
 my God, what was your treatment of me ? " 
 
 Count Charles tapped his pommel sharply, but found 
 difficulty in arranging his thoughts. 
 
 " For the rest, I have lived the wild life of the hills, 
 for I took to it gladly," went on Marcelle quietly. 
 " None of the band knew that Gaspard Lenoir and I were 
 one till I told Tite to-day. Had I my life to live again 
 I would do differently, for I have come to know that 
 vengeance is but of small moment. But my race is run. 
 Thank God that, worthless as it is, my life may yet save 
 another's! I am ready, my lord count. You may not 
 renounce your word." 
 
 A great earnestness was in her eyes, and the count 
 seemed to turn to avoid her look. 
 
 " I do not renounce my word," he said. 
 
 " My lord, I beg of you pay her no heed ! " cried the 
 Sieur Giraud. " Good God, I cannot accept my life in 
 this way ! " 
 
 The count raised himself in the saddle and looked 
 hard at Marcelle. 
 
 354
 
 DAUPHINE 
 
 " You would die for this man, Marcelle de Court- 
 ray and why ? " 
 
 A moment she hesitated, then, with a wonderful 
 light in her great eyes, spoke so gently that they could 
 scarce catch her words. 
 
 " Ay, I would die for him were it not one life I had 
 to give, but more than you offered in exchange for poor 
 Lenoir. O God, I have crowded it down in my heart till 
 the very barriers may hold no longer; nor need they 
 now, for the confession of a dying woman may do no one 
 an injury. I would die because I love this man with a 
 passion that seems to bear me into the very air." 
 
 She turned and seemed to forget the others' presence, 
 and the light of her eyes fell upon the Sieur Giraud. 
 
 " It is the impossible, I know," she said softly, " yet 
 hear it as the last word of one who will soon be gone. 
 That first day in the hills when you came to me broken, 
 disheartened, and ready to welcome death, it surged into 
 my heart. If I kept you to the oath you had sworn it 
 was because my very soul clung to yours and all the light 
 of the world would have been gone with your release. 
 How I yearned for one word of that love my own love 
 seemed to merit! How the mere touch of your hand 
 thrilled me from head to foot ! But you, Sieur Giraud 
 you had no thought for me. You saw naught in what I 
 did or said but the madness you believed possessed me, 
 and so would pass me by. Yet still I would not give 
 up hope. What manner of woman was it that could 
 rouse your love ? To learn this I seized the Lady Agathe 
 and had her brought to me. Could I poison her mind 
 against you, perchance you would spare thought for me. 
 I did and still I was naught; I was not given a thought ; 
 I was something beneath you, low as you had fallen 
 Marcelle the Outcast, Marcelle the Mad. I know it now. 
 
 335
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 It came to me the same night some one stoned me as I 
 ran through the streets, so that barely had I strength to 
 change from Lenoir to Marcelle and reach the house. 
 Then I gave up the fight and longed to die. Yet even 
 now my lord count bestows the one you love on another. 
 I am sorry, Sieur Giraud ; I am sorry ; but I have done 
 what I could. Forgive me for all I have done against 
 you, for I have been blind to all save the love that mas- 
 tered me, and my very reason was torn to shreds with 
 hopeless longing." 
 
 With no thought of the time and place the Sieur 
 Giraud dashed the archers from him and sprang to her 
 side. 
 
 " No, no, Marcelle, it is not you who have been blind, 
 dear heart," he cried, and took her in his arms, " but 
 thank God that my own eyes at last are open. It has 
 never been the Lady Agathe ; never since that day when 
 you came to me at my post on the hills yonder. Plain 
 enough is it now, dear ; yet then did I delude myself with 
 vain hopes, so that all else was blurred to my sight. 
 Marcelle, look up, dearest, look up, that you may read 
 in my eyes the light that has come upon me. I love 
 you, Marcelle, I love you." 
 
 Yet it was not Marcelle who looked up into his eyes, 
 for, as the glowing sun opens the petals of the lily, so 
 had his words transformed her into some radiant spirit. 
 
 " O God ! " she murmured, and her eyes sought the 
 blue above. 
 
 Then she lay quite quiet in his arms, and the eyes of 
 the two clung together. They dreamed not that they 
 were not alone. 
 
 Count Charles sat motionless before them, and his 
 look was far away. 
 
 Of a sudden Crepin sprang forward. 
 336
 
 DAUPHIN 
 
 " My lord count, my lord count, yonder is the man I 
 met in the wood yonder, behind the archers ! " 
 
 Faced now with certain death, the man's eye had by 
 chance lit upon the messenger who had come into the 
 Ardennes to arrange with him for the count's death. It 
 was a last desperate chance and instinctively he leaped 
 forward. 
 
 The ugly knife in his hand he had drawn some 
 moments before against the time when they should seize 
 him and kept concealed beneath his jerkin. Now, in 
 his excitement at sight of the man as he sprang forward, 
 he drew it forth and raised it high to point the man out 
 to Count Charles. 
 
 The great sword of the constable rasped from its 
 sheath, flashed in the dying sunlight, and descended full 
 upon Crepin's head. 
 
 An instant he tottered, then the knife flew from his 
 hand and he fell in a huddled heap, his skull split from 
 crown to chin. 
 
 Count Charles, who had turned to follow Crepin's 
 first gesture, faced about in time to see this. 
 
 The constable silently pointed to the fallen knife. 
 
 A moment Count Charles sat quiet, then said coolly : 
 
 " Yes, methinks you struck in good time, my lord con- 
 stable, and I must thank you for my life. Yet now we 
 may not know whose man it was who went into the hills 
 on such errand. 'Tis a pity." 
 
 The constable shrugged his shoulders and shot his 
 blade home softly. 
 
 At that moment the great bell over their heads 
 sounded the hour of four. 
 
 Instantly the archers on one side of the square opened 
 out to afford passage from the street behind. The sharp 
 roll of drums mingled with the blare of trumpets, 
 
 337
 
 MARCELLE THE MAD 
 
 and from far away up the street came a low moaning 
 sound. 
 
 The count threw his head up, and Tite chancing to 
 catch his eye, he cried: 
 
 " Seize that man ! For what he has done I fix his 
 price at two hundred golden crowns. If he may not pay 
 it let him be sold like the others for what he will fetch." 
 
 The Lady Agathe stepped forward quickly. 
 
 " At the price you set I claim the man, my lord 
 count," she said quietly. " I shall find use for him in 
 Dauphine." 
 
 The count bowed coldly, and turned his attention to 
 the procession now entering the square. Alas, what a 
 pitiful progress this ! 
 
 Between two unyielding lines of mounted men-at- 
 arms marched these forlorn and wailing women of 
 Dinant, with such of their possessions as might find 
 lodgment on their drooping backs. With them, boys and 
 maidens, adding their shrill clamour to the scene, and 
 toddling little ones wide-eyed with wonder at these 
 strange doings, and clinging, as best they might, to their 
 mothers' kirtles. Oh, miserable beings! what what is 
 there left in life for you? 
 
 And now as they draw nearer, here are Petite Maman 
 and Bonne Fleuron in the very van, looking in vain for 
 that aid Crepin had promised them. Among the others, 
 the widow Galiot and Madame Vaucler rending the air 
 with their cries and lamentations. 
 
 Small wonder it was that hardened, rough men on 
 the staff should turn their heads from such scene. 
 
 The Sieur Giraud felt Marcelle tremble within his 
 arms. As for their fate, he made no doubt that Count 
 Charles meant death for both of them now, yet a great 
 peace was upon the two, and they scarce noticed when 
 
 338
 
 DAUPHINE 
 
 the procession came to a halt on a sign from the count. 
 But something in the sudden silence that ensued made 
 them both look up. 
 
 The count's eye was upon them. Without a word he 
 motioned them to join the sad throng. 
 
 "Dauphine!" muttered Monsieur Vignolles, " Dau- 
 phine ! " 
 
 The next moment they were within the lines of steel, 
 the Sieur Giraud holding Marcelle close to his breast, as 
 he might have carried one of the children at his side. 
 The trumpets again sounded their brazen notes, the wail- 
 ing began afresh, and on on moved the heaving multi- 
 tude toward the gates and the dread despair without. 
 
 The dying sun hung red over the hills before them, 
 yet, to two hearts amidst all this anguish, it boded not 
 the coming of the darkness. To them the sky was radiant 
 with the growing dawn the dawn of hope of life, of 
 love and ever in their ears the soft wind from the plain 
 whispered, "Dauphine! Dauphine!" 
 
 (i) 
 
 THE END 
 
 339
 
 WHERE LOVE CONQUERS, 
 
 The Reckoning. 
 
 By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. 
 
 The author's intention is to treat, in a series of four or five 
 romances, that part of the war for independence which particularly 
 affected the great landed families of northern New York, the 
 Johnsons, represented by Sir William, Sir John, Guy Johnson, and 
 Colonel Claus ; the notorious Butlers, father and son, the Schuylers, 
 Van Rensselaers, and others. 
 
 The first romance of the series, Cardigan, was followed by the 
 second, The Maid-at-Arms. The third, in order, is not completed. 
 The fourth is the present volume. 
 
 As Cardigan pretended to portray life on the baronial estate of 
 Sir William Johnson, the first uneasiness concerning the coming 
 trouble, the first discordant note struck in the harmonious councils 
 of the Long House, so, in The Maid-at-Arms, which followed in 
 order, the author attempted to paint a patroon family disturbed by 
 the approaching rumble of battle. That romance dealt with the 
 first serious split in the Iroquois Confederacy ; it showed the Long 
 House shattered though not fallen ; the demoralization and final 
 flight of the great landed families who remained loyal to the British 
 Crown ; and it struck the key-note to the future attitude of the 
 Iroquois toward the patriots of the frontier revenge for their 
 losses at the battle of Oriskany and ended with the march of the 
 militia and continental troops on Saratoga. 
 
 The third romance, as yet incomplete and unpublished, deals 
 with the war-path and those who followed it led by the landed 
 gentry of Tryon County; and ends with the first solid blow de- 
 livered at the Long House, and the terrible punishment of the 
 Great Confederacy. 
 
 The present romance, the fourth in chronological order, picks 
 up the thread at that point. 
 
 The author is not conscious of having taken any liberties with 
 history in preparing a framework of facts for a mantle of romance. 
 
 ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. 
 NEW YORK, May 26, 1904. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. NEW YORK.
 
 WORKS OF ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. 
 
 IOLE 
 
 Colored inlay on the cover, decorative borders, head- 
 pieces, thumb-nail sketches, and tail-pieces. Frontispiece 
 and three full-page illustrations. i2mo. Ornamental 
 Cloth, $1.25. 
 
 Does anybody remember the opera of The Inca, and that heart-breaking 
 episode where the Court Undertaker, in a morbid desire to increase his pro- 
 fessional skill, deliberately accomplishes the destruction of his middle-aged 
 relatives in order to inter them for the sake of practice ? 
 
 If I recollect, his dismal confession runs something like this : 
 " It was in bleak November 
 When I slew them, I remember, 
 As I caught them unawares 
 Drinking tea in rocking-chairs." 
 
 And so he talked them to death, the subject being "What Really Is Art?" 
 Afterward he was sorry 
 
 " The squeak of a door, 
 
 The creak of a floor, 
 My horrors and fears enhance ; 
 And I wake with a scream 
 As I hear in my dream 
 The shrieks of my maiden aunts ! " 
 
 Now it is a very dreadful thing to suggest that those highly respectable 
 pseudo-spinsters, the Sister Arts, supposedly cozily immune in their polyga- 
 mous chastity (for every suitor for favor is popularly expected to be wedded to 
 his particular art) I repeat, it is very dreadful to suggest that these impeccable 
 old ladies are in danger of being talked to death. 
 
 But the talkers are talking and Art Nouveau rockers are rocking, and the 
 trousers of the prophet are patched with stained glass, and it is a day of dinki- 
 ness and of thumbs. 
 
 Let us find comfort in the ancient proverb : " Art talked to death shall rise 
 again." Let us also recollect that "Dinky is as dinky does;" that "All Li 
 not Shaw that Bernards ; " that " Better Yeates than Clever ; " that words are 
 so inexpensive that there is no moral crime in robbing Henry to pay James. 
 
 Firmly believing all this, abjuring all atom-pickers, slab furniture, and 
 woodchuck literature save only the immortal verse : 
 
 " And there the wooden-chuck doth tread ; 
 
 While from the oak trees' tops 
 The red, red squirrel on the head 
 The frequent acorn drops." 
 
 Abjuring, as I say, dinkiness in all its forms, we may still hope that those 
 cleanly and respectable spinsters, the Sister Arts, will continue throughout the 
 ages, rocking and drinking tea unterrified by the million-tongued clamor in 
 the back yard and below stairs, where thumb and forefinger continue the 
 question demanded by intellectual exhaustion : 
 
 " L'arr I Kesker say 1'arr ? " 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.
 
 THE MASTERPIECE OF A MASTER MIND. 
 
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 parable is a picture of heavenly mercy, and not of human 
 justice, and if it were used as an example of conduct among 
 men it would destroy all social conditions and disturb ac- 
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 out the evil of the past. It is not from the unalterable laws 
 of nature and life that forgiveness can be hoped for. 
 
 "Since 'The Manxman' Hall Caine has written nothing so moving 
 in its elements of pathos and tragedy, so plainly marked with the power 
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 Sandy, Jock, Pitcairn, Danvers Carmichael, and the Duke 
 of Borthewicke are admirably relieved against each other, 
 and Nancy herself as irresistible as she is natural. To be 
 sure, she is a wonderful child, but then she manages to 
 make you believe she was a real one. Indeed, reality and 
 naturalness are two of the charms of a story that both 
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 IS THE ESSENCE OF 
 
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 By ELLEN THORNEYCROFT FOWLER, 
 
 whose reputation was made by her first book, 
 " Concerning Isabel Carnaby," and enhanced by her 
 last success, " Place and Power." 
 
 " In ' Kate of Kate Hall,' by Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler, the ques- 
 tion of imminent concern is the marriage of super-dainty, peppery, 
 tempered Lady Katharine Clare, whose wealthy godmother, erstwhile 
 deceased, has left her a vast fortune, on condition that she shall be 
 wedded within six calendar months from date of the testator's death. 
 
 "An easy matter, it would seem, for bonny Kate, notwithstanding 
 her aptness at sharp repartee, is a morsel fit for the gods. 
 
 " The accepted suitor appears in due time ; but comes to grief at the 
 last moment in a quarrel with Lady Kate over a kiss bestowed by her 
 upon her godmother's former man of affairs and secretary. This inci- 
 dent she haughtily refuses to explain. Moreover, she shatters the bond 
 of engagement, although but three weeks remain of the fatal six months. 
 She would rather break stones on the road all day and sleep in a 
 pauper's grave all night, than marry a man who, while professing to love 
 her, would listen to mean and malicious gossips picked up by tell-tales 
 in the servants' hall. 
 
 " So the great estate is likely to be lost to Kate and her debt-ridden 
 father, Lord Claverley. How it is conserved at last, and gloomy appre- 
 hension chased away by dazzling visions of material splendor that is 
 the author's well-kept secret, not to be shared here with a careless and 
 indolent public." Philadelphia North American. 
 
 " The long-standing reproach that women are seldom 'humorists 
 seems in a fair way of passing out of existence. Several contemporary 
 feminine writers have at least sufficient sense of humor to produce char- 
 acters as deliciously humorous as delightful. Of such order is the 
 Countess Claverley, made whimsically real and lovable in the recent 
 book by Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler and A. L. Felkin, Kate of Kte 
 Hall.' "Chicago Record-Herald. 
 
 " ' Kate of Kate Hall ' is a novel in which Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler 
 displays her brilliant abilities at their best The story is well constructed, 
 the plot develops beautifully, the incidents are varied and brisk, and the 
 dialogue is deliciously clever." Rochester Democrat and Chronicle. 
 
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 LOVE. MYSTERY. VENICE. 
 
 The Clock and the Key. 
 
 By ARTHUR HENRY VESEY. i2mo. Ornamental 
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 that will prove his persistence and worth. With the charm 
 of Venice as a background, one follows the adventures of 
 the lover endeavoring to read the puzzling hints of the old 
 clock as to the whereabouts of the famous jewels of many 
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 ultimately solves the mystery, triumphs over his rivals, and 
 wins the girl. 
 
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