“Yet he has his points,” he continued after a moment. “He sent a warning to M. le Duc just now, threatening I know not what if the girl and you two youngsters were not surrendered unharmed forthwith. You should have seen M. le Duc’s face! He sent back a warm message too. ‘Tell your master,’ he said to the envoy, ‘I propose to change Mademoiselle de Cadillac into Madame d’Aurilly. We will then make such treaty as we see fit to prevent d’Aurilly wearying of his wife. This spy from Marsan is going to bawl his life out on the rack. As for the other, I have not yet decided.’ And the envoy went away to deliver this pretty news. One can imagine how Cadillac will receive it! How those two hate each other! France is not wide enough to hold them both.” “And when is this marriage to take place?” I asked, affecting to pass over that portion of the message which concerned myself, though it struck me to the heart. “Soon,” and Drouet winked. “You see, M. d’Aurilly is hungering to possess this pretty piece of womanhood--it seems he is even in love with her! To-morrow, perhaps, or next day. M. le Duc is a man who never delays, and he has a priest here who is most obliging.” “The King,” I cried, “will have something to say to that! There are rumors of strange plots which affect your master. He may go too far!” But Drouet only laughed. “Paris is a long way off,” he said, “and the King has much that concerns him nearer home. Besides, this castle could set at naught even a King’s army, should any be brought against it, which is most unlikely. But in all this rush of events do not despair--you will not be forgotten. M. le Duc himself will wish to see you ere long,” and he chuckled to himself as he picked up his lantern and moved towards the door. For an instant I burned to spring upon him, to pull him down, to kill him with his own poniard. But there was doubtless a sentry in the corridor, who could wing me with a single musket-shot--not yet--not yet--and I let him pass. I must first find a plan--a plan. Come, what were my wits for? I lay down on my pallet in one corner to think it over. But what a problem! To escape from this stronghold in the air, with only one’s bare hands to aid! It was too much for even a Marsan’s cunning! A musket-shot far down the hill brought me out of my thoughts and to my feet. It was followed by another and another, and as I rushed to my window I fancied I could hear a chorus of yells, as of men fighting hand to hand. The cries rose and fell and died away--then a tremendous explosion shook the earth. Far below me I saw a great spurt of flame shoot upward, and I knew that M. le Comte was blowing in the gates of Marleon. At least, he could make himself master of the town. There was for a few moments a renewal of the fighting, and then all was still again.