"I have nothing to say to Monsieur d'Exmès, since he sends no word to me," retorted Lord Wentworth, dryly. "You may say to him, however, if you choose, that for another month--that is, until January 1, do you understand-I shall be at his service in both my capacities, as a gentleman and as governor of Calais. He will understand." "Until January 1?" Pierre repeated. "I will tell him, my Lord." "Very good! here is your receipt, my friend, and a trifle besides, as a slight recompense for the tedium of your long journey. Take it, pray!" The man, who seemed at first to have some scruples, thought better of them, and accepted the purse that Lord Wentworth offered him. "Thanks, my Lord," said he. "Will my Lord grant me still another favor?" "What is that?" asked the governor. "Vicomte d'Exmès contracted another debt during his stay here, to one of the citizens of the town, named--what was his name?--Pierre Peuquoy, whose guest he was." "Well?" said Lord Wentworth. "Will my Lord allow me to seek out this Pierre Peuquoy presently, to repay the amount he advanced?" "To be sure," said the governor. "I will send some one to show you his house. Here is your passport to leave Calais. I should be glad to allow you to remain here a few days; but the regulations strictly forbid our entertaining a stranger, especially a Frenchman. Adieu, then, my friend, and a pleasant journey to you!" "Adieu, my Lord, with many thanks." On leaving the governor's house, the messenger, not without going astray a dozen times, made his way to Rue du Martroi, where our readers may remember that Pierre Peuquoy the armorer dwelt. Gabriel's envoy found Pierre Peuquoy in his workshop more cast down even than Lord Wentworth in his palace. He was received with marked indifference by the armorer, who mistook him at first for a mechanic. But when the new-comer announced himself as having come on behalf of Vicomte d'Exmès, the good burgher's face suddenly brightened up. "From Vicomte d'Exmès!" he cried. Then turning to one of his apprentices, who was within hearing, putting things to rights in the shop, he said carelessly,-- "Quentin, leave us and tell my cousin Jean that a messenger from Vicomte d'Exmès has arrived." The discomfited apprentice left the room to obey his master's orders. "Now you can speak, my friend," rejoined Pierre Peuquoy, eagerly. "Oh, we were sure that the noble lord would not forget us! Speak at once, I beg! What do you bring us from him?" "His compliments and gratitude, this purse of gold, and these words, 'Remember the 5th!' which he said you would understand." "Is that all?" asked Pierre Peuquoy. "Everything, Master. They are very exacting in this neighborhood," thought the messenger. "They scarcely seem to care for good golden crowns; but they have some mysterious secrets which the Devil himself could not understand."