d the still wet writing on the
table in front of Staupitz. Peyrolles made as if to move towards the
door, but again Passepoil, who was watching intently the face of
Cocardasse, read a meaning there, and, pouncing upon Peyrolles,
persuaded him firmly back into the seat he had quitted.

"That is not all," said Cocardasse to the astonished and angry valet.
"This night's work is a big night's work, and not to be paid for over the
counter and done with. We want the money first, but afterwards we want
the protection and favor of Louis de Gonzague."

Peyrolles frowned and made a vehement effort to assert his authority.

"You talk very freely and loosely of great names," he said, with as much
sharpness as he could muster in the presence of that ring of rascality.
"You should know very well, if you know anything at all about the
scandals of grandees, that Monseigneur the Marquis of Caylus has every
reason to dislike Monseigneur the Duke of Nevers, and to wish him out of
the way."

Cocardasse laid a whimsical finger to the side of his jolly, tropical
nose and grinned impishly.

"We know what we know, Monsieur Peyrolles," he said, urbanely. "If it
were merely necessary to kill the Duke of Nevers to gratify the hate of
any private enemy, one place would do as well as another, and we might
take him any time on his way here, instead of waiting till the precise
moment when he enters the moat of Caylus. But you wish us to wait for
that precise moment because you, and your master, wish it to seem patent
to all the world that the deed was done by the Marquis of Caylus on his
own ground, to defend his own honor. Once again, we demand hereafter the
favor and protection of his highness the Prince of Gonzague."

This time Peyrolles needed no pause for reflection. So much was wise to
promise to men who could draw conclusions so dexterously. "You shall have
it," he said, and rose from his seat, this time unrestrained by the
Norman's pressure. "There is my hand on it," he added.

Cocardasse appeared not to perceive the extended hand as he slapped the
hilt of his sword. "Here is my rapier, which answers for me."

Peyrolles smiled sourly. "You had better place a sentinel in the moat,"
he said, addressing Staupitz. "He can give the signal when the mouse
walks into the trap. Till then let the others keep in the background so
as to cut off our gentleman's retreat."

Staupitz nodded sulkily. He had always held Monsieur Peyrolles in
consider