eceives her first congratulations--she will
remember it as long as she lives! Oh, yes, I will answer for that, M.
Anne," he said looking brightly at one and another of us, his eyes more
oblique than ever, "Mademoiselle will remember it, I am sure!"

It would be impossible to describe the devilish glance he flung at the
poor sinking girl as he withdrew, the horrid emphasis he threw into
those last words, the covert deadly threat they conveyed to the dullest
ears. That he went then, was small mercy. He had done all the evil he
could do at present. If his desire had been to leave fear behind him,
he had certainly succeeded.

Kit crying softly went into the house; her innocent coquetry more than
sufficiently punished already. And we three looked at one another with
blank faces, It was clear that we had made a dangerous enemy, and an
enemy at our own gates. As the Vidame had said, these were troublous
times when things were done to men--ay, and to women and
children--which we scarce dare to speak of now. "I wish the Vicomte
were here," Croisette said uneasily after we had discussed several
unpleasant contingencies.

"Or even Malines the steward," I suggested.

"He would not be much good," replied Croisette.

"And he is at St. Antonin, and will not be back this week. Father
Pierre too is at Albi."

"You do not think," said Marie, "that he will attack us?"

"Certainly not!" Croisette retorted with contempt. "Even the Vidame
would not dare to do that in time of peace. Besides, he has not half a
score of men here," continued the lad, shrewdly, "and counting old Gil
and ourselves we have as many. And Pavannes always said that three men
could hold the gate at the bottom of the ramp against a score. Oh, he
will not try that!"

"Certainly not!" I agreed. And so we crushed Marie. "But for Louis de
Pavannes--"

Catherine interrupted me. She came out quickly looking a different
person; her face flushed with anger, her tears dried.

"Anne!" she cried, imperiously, "what is the matter down below--will
you see?"

I had no difficulty in doing that. All the sounds of town life came up
to us on the terrace. Lounging there we could hear the chaffering over
the wheat measures in the cloisters of the market-square, the yell of a
dog, the voice of a scold, the church bell, the watchman's cry. I had
only to step to the wall to overlook it all. On this summer afternoon
the town had been for the most part very quiet.