To this Elizabeth, who had no knowledge of Michel, who desired peace with France at this time, who had favors to ask of Catherine, and who in her own realm had fresh reason to fear conspiracy through the Queen of the Scots and others, replied forthwith that, “If this De la Forêt falleth into our hands, and if it were found he had in truth conspired against France its throne, had he a million lives, not one should remain.” Having despatched this letter, she straightway sent a messenger to Sir Hugh Pawlett in Jersey, making quest of De la Forêt, and commanding that he should be sent to her in England at once. When the Queen’s messenger arrived at Orgueil Castle, Lemprière chanced to be with Sir Hugh Pawlett, and the contents of Elizabeth’s letter were made known to him. At the moment Monsieur of Rozel was munching macaroons and washing them down with canary. The governor’s announcement was such a shock that he choked and coughed, the crumbs flying in all directions, and another pint of canary must be taken to flush his throat. Thus cleared for action, he struck out. “’Tis St. Ouen’s work,” he growled. “’Tis the work of the Medici,” said Sir Hugh. “Read,” he added, holding out the paper. Now Lemprière of Rozel had a poor eye for reading. He had wit enough to wind about the difficulty. “If I see not the Queen’s commands, I’ve no warrant but Sir Hugh Pawlett’s words, and I’ll to London and ask ‘fore her Majesty’s face if she wrote them, and why. I’ll tell my tale and speak my mind, I pledge you, sir.” “You’ll offend her Majesty. Her commands are here.” Pawlett tapped the letter with his finger. “I’m butler to the Queen, and she will list to me. I’ll not smirk and caper like St. Ouen’s; I’ll bear me like a man not speaking for himself. I’ll speak as Harry her father spoke--straight to the purpose.... No, no, no, I’m not to be wheedled, even by a Pawlett, and you shall not ask me. If you want Michel de la Forêt, come and take him. He is in my house. But ye must _take_ him, for _come_ he shall not!” “You will not oppose the Queen’s officers?” “De la Forêt is under my roof. He must be taken. I will give him up to no one; and I’ll tell my sovereign these things when I see her in her palace.” “I misdoubt you’ll play the bear,” said Pawlett, with a dry smile. “The Queen’s tongue is none so tame. I’ll travel by my star, get sweet or sour.” “Well, well, ‘give a man luck, and throw him into the sea,’ is the old proverb. I’m coming for your friend to-night.” “I’ll be waiting with my fingers on the door, sir,” said Rozel, with a grim vanity and an outrageous pride in himself. V The Seigneur of Rozel found De la Forêt at the house of M. Aubert. His face was flushed with hard riding, and perhaps the loving attitude of Michel and Angèle deepened it, for at the garden gate the lovers were saying adieu. “You have come for Monsieur de la Forêt?” asked Angèle, anxiously. Her quick look at the seigneur’s face had told her there were things amiss.