As soon, however, as the door closed behind them, and I heard their footsteps along the gallery, I pulled out the white mask, and lifting the cover of a dish placed the mask within the dish and put back the cover. Then drawing my sword I laid it between my knees, and, resuming my seat, poured out some wine, and awaited Messire Torquato Trotto's return. It was a fortunate thing that the wild cats of Fontevrault were so large and heavy; and it was equally fortunate that Messire Trotto, ex-priest, and now bandit or freelance, was aware of the fact, else, perhaps, he might have examined the ledge that projected below the parapet, and seen there an animal which, though large and heavy, was of a different kind to the grey, striped prowlers of the forest. He would, in fact, have seen Pierrebon, who after vainly trying to get at Piero unobserved had determined to warn me, and succeeded with much difficulty in making his way thus far. Through the screen of the ivy Pierrebon watched us in the room, and when I was alone he was about to step in at once, when he saw my actions, and guessed that I too was on the alert. "Good!" he thought, "he knows too. I had better wait here till I am wanted. Ah! that is just the place!" Rising slowly, he climbed over the parapet, and, with his arquebus ready, leaned up against the wall, so that by moving his head slightly forward he could see into the room. The night was warm and clear. A light breeze stirred the ivy, and shook the leaves of the old lime, by whose aid Pierrebon had made his ascent. Within I sat at the table, my cloak unclasped, now sipping my wine, now gently touching with my finger the dark patch on my sleeve near my shoulder. Without, Pierrebon stood on guard in the black shadow. Down below, Piero began to sing, as only men of his country can, and the deep bass voice, with all its liquid Italian words, pealed melodiously into the night. I listened, murmuring to myself: "Strange! Here is one who can sing of his Alban hills and his Margarita one moment and cut a throat the next. But here they come!" For Trotto's voice had stopped the singer, and then I heard them coming upstairs. The heavy step of Piero halted, however, in the passage, and Trotto entered alone, rubbing his hands together as usual, his white teeth shining between their setting of red lip and short black moustache and beard. Of a truth Messire Torquato was a handsome man if an evil one. He came in with a set smile on his face. "The ladies are safely at rest, and----" "And we can while away the time with this wine, some more supper, and a little talk." "But your wounds, monsieur! They must be attended to. I have told Piero to bring up some salve and bandages." "Bah!" I laughed, "let them keep. My wound, not wounds, is but a scratch, and hurts far less than the one that lost you that forefinger." And I pointed to his left hand, which wanted a forefinger.