The conference lasted long, too; at least so Antoine de Cavannes told me."
The Governor shot a sharp glance at Gerard, who said to Gabrielle—
"The monk is one of those whom I met two days ago in the market place, Gabrielle, when Babillon, the smith, was done to death at my lord's bidding." He spoke quietly and calmly. "You may remember him; a dark, swarthy, burly man who helped you. The companion of him who stepped between us and the soldiery."
"I remember him well," answered Gabrielle. She was oppressed by a sense of danger, impalpable and invisible, but yet real.
"That is all," said Gerard, with a smile to reassure her.
"Of what spoke you together?" asked the Governor.
"May not a man speak even with a monk in Morvaix without the Governor's permission? 'Twould seem not indeed; for even while we were in converse, those two jackals who sought to take your Denys' life, Gabrielle, came up with flouts and jeers and sneers, as though licensed to insult even men of a religious life. I think in truth this is a matter that concerns you closely, my lord."
"How dare you say that to me?"
"What daring is there in it? I answered the fellow—the one that is yet unwounded—told him my thoughts of him and offered him such reparation as he could take; when he turned upon me and hinted that such insolence as his was possible by your protection and permission. He is yonder; let him come and answer for himself;" and Gerard pointed to where Antoine and d'Estelle were standing at a distance.
"Enough of this insolence," exclaimed the Governor.
"So I told him," replied Gerard coolly; "scarce believing it possible such things could be done with your sanction.
