“Madame has other fish to fry,” Carlat blurted out.  “Do you think that she has naught to do but listen to messages from a gang of bandits?”

“If she does not listen she will repent it all her life!” the fellow answered hardily.  “That is part of my message.”

There was a pause while La Tribe considered the matter.  In the end, “From whom do you come?” he asked.

“From His Excellency the Lieutenant-Governor of Saumur,” the envoy answered glibly, “and from my Lord Bishop of Angers, him assisting by his Vicar; and from others gathered lawfully, who will as lawfully depart if their terms are accepted.  Also from M. de Tignonville, a gentleman, I am told, of these parts, now in their hands and adjudged to die at sunset this day if the terms I bring be not accepted.”

There was a long silence on the gate.  The men looked down fixedly; not a feature of one of them moved, for no one was surprised.  “Wherefore is he to die?” La Tribe asked at last.

“For good cause shown.”

“Wherefore?”

“He is a Huguenot.”

The minister nodded.  “And the terms?” Carlat muttered.

“Ay, the terms!” La Tribe repeated, nodding afresh.  “What are they?”

“They are for Madame’s ear only,” the messenger made answer.

“Then they will not reach it!” Carlat broke forth in wrath.  “So much for that!  And for yourself, see you go quickly before we make a target of you!”

“Very well, I go,” the envoy answered sullenly.  “But—­”

“But what?” La Tribe cried, gripping Carlat’s shoulder to quiet him.  “But what?  Say what you have to say, man!  Speak out, and have done with it!’

“I will say it to her and to no other.”

“Then you will not say it!” Carlat cried again.  “For you will not see her.  So you may go.  And the black fever in your vitals.”

“Ay, go!” La Tribe added more quietly.

The man turned away with a shrug of the shoulders, and moved off a dozen paces, watched by all on the gate with the same fixed attention.  But presently he paused; he returned.

“Very well,” he said, looking up with an ill grace.  “I will do my office here, if I cannot come to her.  But I hold also a letter from M. de Tignonville, and that I can deliver to no other hands than hers!” He held it up as he spoke, a thin scrap of greyish paper, the fly-leaf of a missal perhaps.  “See!” he continued, “and take notice!  If she does not get this, and learns when it is too late that it was offered—­”

“The terms,” Carlat growled impatiently.  “The terms!  Come to them!”

“You will have them?” the man answered, nervously passing his tongue over his lips.  “You will not let me see her, or speak to her privately?”

“No.”