My heart was too full for words, but I took the glove she held out to me, and kissed her hand with my knee bent. Then I waved--for I could not speak--to madame to proceed; and with Simon Fleix and Maignan’s men to guard them they went on their way. Mademoiselle’s white face looked back to me until a bend in the road hid them, and I saw them no more. I turned when all were gone, and going heavily to where my Sard stood with his head drooping, I climbed to the saddle, and rode at a foot-pace towards the Chateau. The way was short and easy, for the next turning showed me the open gateway and a crowd about it. A vast number of people were entering and leaving, while others rested in the shade of the wall, and a dozen grooms led horses up and down. The sunshine fell hotly on the road and the courtyard, and flashed back by the cuirasses of the men on guard, seized the eye and dazzled it with gleams of infinite brightness. I was advancing alone, gazing at all this with a species of dull indifference which masked for the moment the suspense I felt at heart, when a man, coming on foot along the street, crossed quickly to me and looked me in the face. I returned his look, and seeing he was a stranger to me, was for passing on without pausing. But he wheeled beside me and uttered my name in a low voice. I checked the Cid and looked down at him. ‘Yes,’ I said mechanically, ‘I am M. de Marsac. But I do not know you.’ ‘Nevertheless I have been watching for you for three days,’ he replied. ‘M. de Rosny received your message. This is for you.’ He handed me a scrap of paper. ‘From whom?’ I asked. ‘Maignan,’ he answered briefly. And with that, and a stealthy look round, he left me, and went the way he had been going before. I tore open the note, and knowing that Maignan could not write, was not surprised to find that it lacked any signature. The brevity of its contents vied with the curtness of its bearer. ‘In Heaven’s name go back and wait,’ it ran. ‘Your enemy is here, and those who wish you well are powerless.’ A warning so explicit, and delivered under such circumstances, might have been expected to make me pause even then. But I read the message with the same dull indifference, the same dogged resolve with which the sight of the crowded gateway before me had inspired me. I had not come so far and baffled Turenne by an hour to fail in my purpose at the last; nor given such pledges to another to prove false to myself. Moreover, the distant rattle of musketry, which went to show that a skirmish was taking place on the farther side of the Castle, seemed an invitation to me to proceed; for now, if ever, my sword might earn protection and a pardon. Only in regard to M. de Rosny, from whom I had no doubt that the message came, I resolved to act with prudence; neither making any appeal to him in public nor mentioning his name to others in private.