he central keep a red light streamed out, and
when the clouds flew low, strange dilated shadows were wont to be cast
upon the rolling vapour. Sometimes smoke, acrid and heavy, bellied
forth, and anon wild cries of pain and agony floated down to silence
the footfalls of the home-returning rustics and chill the hearts of
burghers trembling in their beds.

But none dared to question in public the doings of the great and
puissant lord of all the country of Retz. It fared not well with him
who even looked too much at the things which were done.

The night was yet darker up aloft in the Castle of Machecoul itself.
In the sacristy good Father Blouyn, with an air of resigned
reluctance, was handing over to an emissary of his master the moulds
in which the tall altar candles for the Chapel of the Holy Innocents
were usually cast and compacted. And as Clerk Henriet went out with
the moulds he took a long look through a private spy-hole at the lads
of the choir who were sitting in the hall apportioned to their use.
They were supposed to be busy with their lessons, and, indeed, a few
were poring over their books with some show of studious absorption.
But for the most part they were playing at cards and dominos, or, in
the absence of the master, sticking intimate pins and throwing about
indiscriminate ink, according to the immemorial use of the choir-boy.

Clerk Henriet counted them twice over and in especial looked carefully
to see what did the young Scots lad, who had so mysteriously escaped
from the dread room of his master. Laurence MacKim played X's and O's
upon a board with Blaise Renouf, the precentor's son, and at some
hitch in the game he incontinently clouted the Frenchman upon the ear.
Whereupon ensued trouble and the spilling of much ink.

Henriet, perfectly satisfied, took up the heavy moulds and made his
way to his lord's chamber, where many things were used for purposes
other than those for which they had been intended.

Upon the back of his departure came in the Precentor Renouf, who laid
his baton conjointly and freely about the ears of his son and those of
Laurence MacKim.

"Get to your beds both of you, and that supperless, for uproar and
conduct ill becoming two youths who worship God all day in his
sanctuary, and are maintained at grievous expense by our most devout
and worthy lord, Messire Gilles of Laval and Retz, Seigneur and Lord!"

Laurence, who had of set purpose provoked the quarrel, was slinking