“Then Kill and Burn are His alphabet!” Tavannes retorted, and heedless of the start of horror which a saying so near blasphemy excited among the Churchmen, he turned to Father Pezelay.  “And you!  You, too, I know!” he continued.  “And you know me!  And take this from me.  Turn, father!  Turn!  Or worse than a broken head—­you bear the scar, I see—­will befall you.  These good persons, whom you have moved, unless I am in error, to take this journey, may not know me; but you do, and can tell them.  If they will to Angers, they must to Angers.  But if I find trouble in Angers when I come, I will hang some one high.  Don’t scowl at me, man!”—­in truth, the look of hate in Father Pezelay’s eyes was enough to provoke the exclamation.  “Some one, and it shall not be a bare patch on the crown will save his windpipe from squeezing!”

A murmur of indignation broke from the preachers’ attendants; one or two made a show of drawing their weapons.  But Count Hannibal paid no heed to them, and had already turned on his heel when Father Pezelay spurred his mule a pace or two forward.  Snatching a heavy brass cross from one of the acolytes, he raised it aloft, and in the voice which had often thrilled the heated congregation of St. Magloire, he called on Tavannes to pause.

“Stand, my lord!” he cried.  “And take warning!  Stand, reckless and profane, whose face is set hard as a stone, and his heart as a flint, against High Heaven and Holy Church!  Stand and hear!  Behold the word of the Lord is gone out against this city, even against Angers, for the unbelief thereof!  Her place shall be left unto her desolate, and her children shall be dashed against the stones!  Woe unto you, therefore, if you gainsay it, or fall short of that which is commanded!  You shall perish as Achan, the son of Charmi, and as Saul!  The curse that has gone out against you shall not tarry, nor your days continue!  For the Canaanitish woman that is in your house, and for the thought that is in your heart, the place that was yours is given to another!  Yea, the sword is even now drawn that shall pierce your side!”

“You are more like to split my ears!” Count Hannibal answered sternly.  “And now mark me!  Preach as you please here.  But a word in Angers, and though you be shaven twice over, I will have you silenced after a fashion which will not please you!  If you value your tongue therefore, father—­Oh, you shake off the dust, do you?  Well, pass on!  ’Tis wise, perhaps.”

And undismayed by the scowling brows, and the cross ostentatiously lifted to heaven, he gazed after the procession as it moved on under its swaying banner, now one and now another of the acolytes looking back and raising his hands to invoke the bolt of Heaven on the blasphemer.  As the cortege passed the huge watering-troughs, and the open gateway of the inn, the knot of persons congregated there fell on their knees.  In answer the Churchmen raised their banner higher, and began to sing the Eripe me, Domine! and to its strains, now vengeful, now despairing, now rising on a wave of menace, they passed slowly into the distance, slowly towards Angers and the Loire.