"Messire, the Bishop says he can afford no more, and his brother, the Sieur François, has written to urge him to supply him with more, but he says that his treasury is exhausted and his land impoverished, and that there are no more men to be got. Besides, what they reckon on is for the whole garrison of the town to fly to the castle should the walls of the town fall into the enemy's power. It has never entered into their heads that the citadel should be first grasped, and the citadel commands all--it commands the town, it commands the road to Sarlat, it commands the whole country." "And the Bishop says there is nothing to be got--no money?" "So he says; that is the reason he gives. He told the Sieur François to do his best with the handful he has; he was unable to assist further." "We will speedily prove if his words be true. We shall soon make him beat his head to think that he was so parsimonious that he had scruples about melting up his church plate. That only is an exhausted land which yields naught when it has passed through my sieve." Guillem halted in his walk, laid one hand on the shoulder of the old man, and said, in a tone in which was some suspicion, "So you will turn traitor, betray a trust for nothing!" "Pardon, Messire; I said that I did it to satisfy my revenge." "By the Holy Caul of Cahors!"[9] laughed Le Gros Guillem, "revenge is sweet, especially to the old. When the kisses of women and the clink of spurs and the fingering of gold no longer charm, revenge is still palatable. What makes you so lust for vengeance, old man?" [9] _La Sainte Coiffe_--a caul in which it was fabled that the infant Christ was born--was one of the choice relics preserved at Cahors. It fell into the hands of the Huguenots at the memorable capture of Cahors by Henry of Navarre, but was recovered. It happily disappeared at the Revolution. "Ah, Messire! what do the small troubles of a nobody like me concern you?" Guillem let go his hold and recommenced his pacing: "The Holy Caul to my aid! but I, too, have my grievance, and my mouth waters for the same dainty as does yours. Let me but be established at La Roque, and they may expect me at Le Peuch." "Who is at Le Peuch, Messire?" "Old man, one who has injured my honour; one to whom I will show no mercy if I but get him in my grip. From La Roque I can command all the Sarladais, and I can swoop down at my leisure on Le Peuch. I shall get gold at Sarlat and blood at Le Peuch. By Heaven, I do not know which will best please me!" "You accept my offer, Messire le Gros?" "Aye--to-morrow, at an hour to midnight. Are you an ecclesiastic?" "No, Messire." "You have a clerical aspect; but I suppose all who serve the Bishop assume something of that. Very well. I shall be there--I and my men. Will you eat? Will you drink?"