I followed him silently, but my heart cleared somewhat when I saw him begin to mount a narrow stair. I had feared that I was to be buried in some dungeon underground,--anything were better than that,--to be shut away from the pure air and bright sunshine! So it was even with a certain cheerfulness that I went up the stair behind him. Up, up we went steadily, until at last I saw we had reached the top. Drouet paused before a little door secured by three bolts sunk deep into the masonry. He threw them back slowly, one by one, that I might contemplate their strength, then pulled the door open. “Enter,” he said, and I stooped and stepped within. He stood looking after me a moment, then swung the door shut, and I heard him throwing the bolts into place with the same malicious deliberation. Then all was still. I was in the topmost chamber of the tower looking towards the east--over the town and out across the plain. It was a little room, with walls of great stones there could be no removing, but there was a small window, too narrow, indeed, to permit the passage of my body, and barred with heavy iron, yet wide enough to admit a breath of fresh air and a stream of sunshine. I went to it and stood looking far out across the valley. The fields, the houses, the strip of woods along a little river were cameoed by the bright sunshine and the clear, pure air of the south. But my thoughts were heavy ones, and kept my eyes from perceiving the full beauty of the scene. As I stood looking so, my eyes caught the movement of a body of men along a road afar off. I watched them listlessly at first, thinking them some mob of peasants en route to a market or merry-making, but as they drew nearer I saw that they were mounted, and then the sunlight was caught on glittering armor, on burnished hilts and gleaming spear-points. It was a troop of men armed cap-à-pie--and my heart leaped at the sudden thought that this might be M. le Comte himself--too late by an hour! Breathlessly I watched them as they drew nearer--I could see that they numbered some three hundred, that they were well mounted and well accoutred. Some of the people of Marleon came out to look at them, and then, after a glance, went hastily in again, closing the gates behind them. I could see them running through the streets, and a noise of many voices floated upward to me, confused and indistinct. Plainly there was something about this troop of horse which caused the good people of the town much uneasiness. The troop came on slowly and with a certain impressiveness. Just at the city wall they stopped, and then there came mounting to my ears a trumpet’s clear note of defiance. A pennant was thrown out upon the breeze,--it hung a moment limp, then the wind caught its folds and stretched it so that all might see--azure; on a bend or, a laurel-tree sinople,--the arms of Cadillac! CHAPTER IX THE DEN OF THE WOLF