"He did very well," said Prosper, "though he should have fought with
Renny, and not stabbed him in the dark. But why did he bring the
wicket-gates?"
"He said that since they had for once been held by honest men, he
could not let them backslide. Moreover, they were in his way, and he
knew not what else to do with them."
"And why did he take the man's tongue?"
"He said that the head must stay tongueless at Coldscaur to warn all
traducers of me. True enough, the man has come to be remembered as
Blaise Sanslang."
"I should have done otherwise," said Prosper.
"What would you have made of it, Prosper?"
"I should have brought the man alive to your feet; I should have
advised you to give him a whipping and let him go."
"That would have been more merciless to Renny, my friend, than what
Salomon de Montguichet did. I have told you that they are the proudest
family in Christendom."
"I never thought of Renny," he answered; "I was thinking of myself in
Salomon's place."
"Montguichet thought of me, Prosper."
"I also was thinking of you, Countess."
Presently he grew keen on his own thoughts again and asked-"What became of Salomon de Born?"
"I cannot tell you," she replied, "except this, that he took service
under the King of the Romans and went abroad. Of where he is now, or
how he fares, I know nothing."
"I think he is dead," said Prosper.
"What is your reason?"
"I have seen another carrying his arms."
"But it may have been the man himself. A thin man, hatchet-faced, with
hot, large eyes; a pale man, who looked not to have the sinew he
proved to have."
Prosper looked thoughtful, a little puzzled too. "The description is
familiar to me. I may have seen the man. But certainly it was not he
who carried the Montguichet shield."
Suddenly he sprang up with a shout. He stood holding the table, white
and shaky. The Countess ran to him and put her arm on his shoulder:
"Prosper, Prosper, you have frightened me! What is your thought? Are
you ill? I entreat you to tell me, Prosper."
He collected himself at once to reassure her.
"The man is dead," he said, "and I buried him. I remember his face; I
remember a badge on his breast; I remember it all. But I do not
understand--I do not see clearly as yet. I must think. I beg you to
let me leave you for the present. To-morrow I will go to avenge
Salomon de Montguichet."
The youth was quite wild and out of breath.
"Prosper!" cried the Countess, clinging to him, "I conjure you to tell
me what this means. You will never leave me this night without a word.
You cannot know--"