It came always to this: she must win over the Duke. Of the allies against Vlaye, he, with his hundred and fifty horse, due to arrive on the Wednesday, with the larger support which he could summon if it were necessary, and with his favour at Court, was by far the most formidable. Detach him, and the Lieutenant with his handful of riders, backed though he might be by the Countess's men, and the peasant rout would be very likely to fail. It came back then always to this: she must win the Duke. As she pondered, with her eyes on her book, as she considered again and anew this resolution, the noises of the camp, the Bat's sharp word of command--for he had fallen imperturbably to drilling as if that were the one thing necessary--the Vicomte's querulous voice, and the more distant babel of the peasants' quarter, all added weight to her thoughts. And then on a sudden an alien sound broke the current. The man lying beside her laughed. She glanced at him, startled for the moment out of her _role_. The Duke was shaking with merriment. Confused, not understanding, she rose. "My lord," she said, half offended, "what is it? What moves you?" "A rare joke," he answered. "I was loth to interrupt your thoughts, fair sister, but 'twas too much for me." He fell to laughing again. "You will injure yourself, my lord," she said, chiding him gently, "if you laugh so violently." "Oh, but----" The litter shook under him. "At least," she said, with a look more tender and less saintly than she had yet permitted herself, "you will tell me what it is! What----" "Raise that--the cloak!" he said. He pointed with his hand. "Remove it, I mean, and you will see what--what you will see!" She obeyed and immediately recoiled with a low cry, the cloak in her hand. "_Mon Dieu!_" she whispered, with the colour gone from her cheeks. "Who--who is he? Who is he?" She shuddered. The man her act had revealed rose from his hiding-place, his face whiter than hers, his haggard, shifty eyes betraying his terror. "My lord!" he cried, "you will not betray me? My lord, you passed your word!" "Pah, coward, be silent!" the Duke answered. He turned to the Abbess, his eyes dancing. "Do you know him?" he asked. "He is M. de Vlaye's man," she said. "The prisoner!" She was pale and she frowned, her hands pressed to her breast. "Whom they are so anxious to hang!" the Duke replied, chuckling. "And whom des Ageaux is so anxious to have under his hand! Ha! ha! Those were his words! Under his hand! When he touched the cloak I thought I should have died. And you, rascal, what did you think? You thought you were going to die, I'll be sworn!" "My lord--my lord!" the man faltered the words, holding out imploring hands. "Ay, I'll wager you did!" Joyeuse replied. "Wished you had let me confess you then, I'll be sworn! He'd not have it, good sister, when I offered it, because it was too like the end--the rope and the tree!"