"What have you for me?" he demanded. "Nothing. What should I have?" "No gold?" "No." "He promised me ten pistoles to-day. He did not give them to you?" "I tell you, no." "You are a thief! You have them!" He stepped forward menacingly; so did I. He then fell back as abruptly. "Nay, it was a jest; I know you are honest. But he promised me ten pistoles." "He did not give them to me," I said. "Perhaps he was not so convinced of my honesty. He will doubtless pay you afterward." "Afterward!" he retorted in a high key. "By our Lady, he shall pay me afterward! The gutters will run gold then, will they? Pardieu! I will see that a good stream flows my way. But one cannot play to-day with to-morrow's coin. He said I should have ten pistoles when I let him know the hour." "I cannot mend that. It lies between you and him. I have not seen or heard of any money." Martin edged up close to the door of retreat and waxed defiant. "Then all I have to say is, he may go whistle for his news." Now, had I but thought of it, here was an easy road out of a bad business. If Martin would not tell the hour of rendezvous, Lucas was saved, Monsieur's interests not endangered, yet at the same time I was not forsworn. But touch pitch and be defiled. You cannot go hand and glove with villains and remain an honest man. I returned directly: "As you choose. But M. Gervais carries a long sword." He started at that and made no instant reply, seeming to be balancing considerations. Then he gave his decision. "I will tell you. But your M. Gervais is wrong if he thinks I can be slighted and robbed of my dues. I know enough to make trouble for him, and I know where to take my knowledge. He will not find it easy to shut my mouth afterward, except with good broad gold pieces." "Enfin, are you telling me the hour?" I said impatiently. I was ill at ease; my only wish was to get the errand done and be gone. He laid a hand on my shoulder and made me bend to him, and even then spoke so low I could scarce catch the words. "They have fixed positively on to-night. They will leave by this door and take the route I described last night to M. Gervais. They will start as soon as the streets are quiet, sometime between ten and eleven. They must allow an hour to reach the gate, and the man goes off at twelve. In all likelihood they will not set out before a quarter of eleven; M. le Duc does not care to be recognized." So they planned to kill Lucas at Monsieur's side? Yeux-gris had not dared to tell me that. But he had looked me straight in the face and sworn on the cross no harm was meant to M. le Duc. Natheless, the thing looked ugly. My heart leaped up at the next words: "Also Vigo will go." "Vigo!"