h his lowering eye--"and the preaching fool
with you, get arms and mount! You have never played aught but the woman
yet; but play me false now, or look aside but a foot from the path I bid
you take, and you thwart me no more, Monsieur! And you, Madame," he
continued, turning to the Countess, who stood bewildered at one of the
doors, the Provost's daughter clinging and weeping about her, "you have
three minutes to get your women to horse! See you, if you please, that
they take no longer!"

She found her voice with difficulty. "And this child?" she said. "She
is in my care."

"Bring her," he muttered with a scowl of impatience. And then, raising
his voice as he turned on the terrified gang of hostlers and inn servants
who stood gaping round him, "Go help!" he thundered. "Go help! And
quickly!" he added, his face growing a shade darker as a second bell
began to toll from a neighbouring tower, and the confused babel in the
Place Ste.-Croix settled into a dull roar of "_Sacrilege_!
_sacrilege_."--"Hasten!"

Fortunately it had been his first intention to go to the Council attended
by the whole of his troop; and eight horses stood saddled in the stalls.
Others were hastily pulled out and bridled, and the women were mounted.
La Tribe, at a look from Tavannes, took behind him the Provost's
daughter, who was helpless with terror. Between the suddenness of the
alarm, the uproar without, and the panic within, none but a man whose
people served him at a nod and dreaded his very gesture could have got
his party mounted in time. Javette would fain have swooned, but she
dared not. Tignonville would fain have questioned, but he shrank from
the venture. The Countess would fain have said something, but she forced
herself to obey and no more. Even so the confusion in the courtyard, the
mingling of horses and men and trappings and saddle-bags, would have made
another despair; but wherever Count Hannibal, seated in his saddle in the
middle, turned his face, chaos settled into a degree of order, servants,
ceasing to listen to the yells and cries outside, ran to fetch, women
dropped cloaks from the gallery, and men loaded muskets and strapped on
bandoliers.

Until at last--but none knew what those minutes of suspense cost him--he
saw all mounted, and, pistol in hand, shepherded them to the back gates.
As he did so he stooped for a few scowling words with Badelon, whom he
sent to the van of the party: then he gave the word to o