He crossed the room to them, halting midway to listen, his attention divided between them and the conflict below. His eyes dwelt awhile on the Abbess, but settled, as he drew nearer, on Bonne. He desired to reassure her. "Have no fear, mademoiselle," he said quietly. "Your brother runs little risk. They were taken by surprise. By this time it is over." The Vicomte heard and his lips trembled, but no words came. It was the Abbess who spoke for him. "And what next?" she asked harshly. Des Ageaux, still lending an ear to the sounds below, looked at her with attention, but did not answer. "What next?" she repeated. "You have entered forcibly. By what right?" "The right, mademoiselle," he replied, "that every man has to resist a wrong. The right that every man has to protect women, and to save his friends. If you desire more than this," he continued, with a change of tone that answered the challenge of her eyes, "in the King's name, mademoiselle, and my own!" "And you are?" "His Majesty's Lieutenant in Perigord," he answered, bowing. His attention was fixed on her, yet he was vividly conscious of the colour that mounted suddenly to Bonne's cheeks, dyed her brows, shone in her eyes. "Of Perigord?" the Abbess repeated in astonishment. "Of Perigord," he replied, bowing again. "It is true," he continued, shrugging his shoulders, "that I am a league or two beyond my border, but great wrongs beget little ones, mademoiselle." She hated him. As he stood there successful, she hated him. But she had not found an answer, nor had Bonne stilled the fluttering, half painful, half pleasant, of her heart, when the tread of returning feet heralded news. The Bat and two others entered, bearing a lanthorn that lit up their damp swarthy faces. The first was Roger. He was wildly excited. "Great news!" he cried, waving his hand. "Great news! I have downstairs----" One look from des Ageaux's eyes silenced him. Des Ageaux looked from him to the Bat. "What have you done?" he asked curtly. "Taken two unwounded, three wounded," the tall man answered as briefly. "The others escaped." "Their horses?" "We have their horses." Des Ageaux paused an instant. Then, "You have closed the gates?" "And set a guard, my lord!" the Bat answered. "We have no wounded, but----" "The Duke of Joyeuse lies below, and is wounded!" Roger cried in a breath. He could restrain himself no longer. If his object was to shatter des Ageaux's indifference, he succeeded to a marvel. "The Duke of Joyeuse?" the Lieutenant exclaimed in stupefaction. "Impossible!" "But no!" Roger retorted. "He is lying below--wounded. It is not impossible!" "But he was not--of those?" des Ageaux returned, indicating by a gesture the men whom they had just expelled. For an instant the notion that he had attacked and routed friends instead of foes darkened his face.