“Whatever comes, you will love me, Michel?” “I will love you whatever comes.” “Listen.” She drew his head down. “I am no drag-weight to thy life? Thou wouldst not do otherwise if there were no foolish Angèle?” He did not hesitate. “What is best is. I might do otherwise if there were no Angèle in my life to pilot my heart, but that were worse for me.” “Thou art the best lover in all the world.” “I hope to make a better husband. To-morrow is carmine-lettered in my calendar, if thou sayest thou wilt still have me under the sword of the Medici.” Her hand pressed her heart suddenly. “Under the sword, if it be God’s will,” she answered. Then, with a faint smile, “But no, I will not believe the Queen of England will send thee, one of her own Protestant faith, to the Medici.” “And thou wilt marry me?” “When the Queen of England approves thee,” she answered, and buried her face in the hollow of his arm. * * * * * An hour later Sir Hugh Pawlett came to the manor-house of Rozel with twoscore men-at-arms. The seigneur himself answered the governor’s knocking, and showed himself in the doorway with a dozen halberdiers behind him. “I have come seeking Michel de la Forêt,” said the governor. “He is my guest.” “I have the Queen’s command to take him.” “He is my cherished guest.” “Must I force my way?” “Is it the Queen’s will that blood be shed?” “The Queen’s commands must be obeyed.” “The Queen is a miracle of the world, God save her! What is the charge against him?” “Summon Michel de la Forêt, ’gainst whom it lies.” “He is my guest; ye shall have him only by force.” The governor turned to his men. “Force the passage and search the house,” he commanded. The company advanced with levelled pikes, but at a motion from the seigneur his men fell back before them, and, making a lane, disclosed Michel de la Forêt at the end of it. Michel had not approved of Lemprière’s mummery of defence, but he understood from what good spirit it sprang, and how it flattered the seigneur’s vanity to make show of resistance. The governor greeted De la Forêt with a sour smile, read to him the Queen’s writ, and politely begged his company towards Mont Orgueil Castle. “I’ll fetch other commands from her Majesty, or write me down a peddler of St. Ouen’s follies,” the seigneur said from his doorway, as the governor and De la Forêt bade him good-bye and took the road to the castle. VI Michel de la Forêt was gone, a prisoner. From the dusk of the trees by the little chapel of Rozel, Angèle had watched his exit in charge of the governor’s men. She had not sought to show her presence; she had seen him--that was comfort to her heart; and she would not mar the memory of that last night’s farewell by another before these strangers. She saw with what quiet Michel bore his arrest, and she said to herself, as the last halberdier vanished: