"What was within it?" "Within it, Mademoiselle?" "Yes; he says, I am bid send you what is within." Then I saw what a fool I had been. The story of the King's full-handed bribes, his promise of a new Solignac, of restored lands, and of a blood for blood vengeance on Jan Meert I had told her in full detail, but of the blunt threat sprawled across the other side of the account I had said nothing. "Well, Monsieur, what was within it?" Then, as I still hesitated, "A full confession, Monsieur Hellewyl." "This," and upon the table between us I laid the piece of cord, the noose still looped at the end. "This, and the message, So saith Tristan!" She leaned, as I have said, across the table, resting on her folded arms; now she drew back, shrinking into the capacious hollow of her rounded chair as if the foot of innocent string had been a death-adder at the least. Of its symbolism there could be no mistake. "That? You had that in your pocket to-day at La Voulle? You had that while Gaston lay asleep, and you faced Jean Volran on the stairway? Jean Volran? Not him alone; Jean Volran had four others, with him. Five against two are great odds?" "No, Mademoiselle, not really great odds. We held the upper stairs, and Father Paul would have raised La Voulle behind them." "Five against two are great odds," she persisted, "odds that no man need be ashamed to find too great--compellingly great--when he carries that in his pocket. Nor need Father Paul have raised La Voulle; that thought was yours? You had your chance there to save your honour, Monsieur Hellewyl--and your life," she added, tapping the table an inch away from the noosed cord. "Should I have taken the chance?" said I; "or do you think that only frail, gentle-nurtured girls should ride into the shadow of the House of Nails?" "It was for my nation, Monsieur?" "It was for my honour, Mademoiselle; for though the world might say I had saved it, my own heart would give the world the lie daily, until I died. Besides, you make too much of it. The King is in Plessis, and I----" "You are safe in Morsigny, and Morsigny can hold you safe; yes, thank God for that!" But I shook my head, unwillingly enough, though I trust the unwillingness to be hanged did not show too plainly in my face. "No, Mademoiselle de Narbonne, that cannot be. Why! the King would rake Navarre as with a wool-carder's comb until he found me. Martin and I go hence to-morrow." "Where?" "Does that matter? Anywhere." "I can tell you where," said Paul, breaking in for the first time. "He rides straight to Plessis. I heard him tell Jean Volran; to Plessis by the road of the King's choosing." "To Plessis!" cried Mademoiselle, bringing down her clenched hand upon the noose. "To Plessis, with that before you? Never!" "My oath, Mademoiselle, my oath by the Cross of Saint Lo, whereon who swears falsely dies here and hereafter."