"Ah! you are afraid to let the captain and his men hear your story," she said contemptuously.
"They would probably kill me, and that would hardly help you," answered the priest quietly. "Count Felix has determined that the young Duke shall not enter Vayenne. I had the story from one who is well known to you, mademoiselle—from Jean, the dwarf of St. Etienne."
"A fitting story from such a madman," she laughed. "How came he to persuade a priest to be his ambassador?"
"I am not a priest." And Herrick threw back the hood from his head.
Christine took one step toward him, and gazed into his face.
"The spy!" she said.
"Mademoiselle, do I look like a spy? Do I act like one? Last night I was locked in the South Tower, a place of ill omen, as you know. To be his messenger the dwarf released me by a way known to him alone. I have ridden hard all night to bring this warning to you. All roads were open to me; I need not have taken that to Passey were I not desirous of serving you."
"You shall tell this story to the captain," she answered. "It is for him to weigh its merit."
"As you will, mademoiselle. Heaven grant he is an honest man."
She went to the door, and, calling a servant, bid him fetch the captain of the escort; nor did she speak to Herrick until the captain entered the room.