ranged themselves at his side, thus giving an impressive background to his exhortation.
The soldiers, abashed by this strange opposition, hung back in doubt, and the citizens having in the meanwhile borne the dead body away, the trouble ended in nothing more serious than muttered threats and oaths from the soldiers and stern remonstrances from the monks.
When the soldiers had drawn off, Gerard turned to seek the girl the attack on whom had provoked him to interfere, but she had vanished.
With an eagerness which brought a smile to Pascal's face, Gerard plied those about him with questions regarding her, and learnt that she was Mademoiselle de Malincourt, and had gone away to comfort the trouble-stricken woman whose husband had been the victim of the morning's tragedy.
"You did shrewdly, Pascal," said Dubois, when the two were alone.
"Our good fellows won't thank me, for, like myself, their fingers were tingling to be at some of the rascals' throats. Where's the young lord, Gerard?"
"Gone in search of" Pascal's laugh interposed to finish the sentence.
"Aye, aye. We can understand. There's a woman in the thing now, of course. And we shall hear more of her, or I am a monk indeed, and no soldier, which God forefend."
