But my blood was afire,
and I was in too hot a haste to reason.
"Return to Toulouse?" I echoed scornfully. "A waste of time, Captain.
No, I will go straight to Lavedan. I need no counter-warrant. I
know too much of this Chevalier's affairs, and my very presence should
be enough to stay his hand. He is as foul a traitor as you'll find in
France; but for the moment God bless him for a very opportune knave.
Gilles!" I called, throwing wide the door. "Gilles!"
"Monseigneur," he answered, hastening to me.
"Put back the carriages and saddle me a horse," I commanded. "And
bid your fellows mount at once and await me in the courtyard. We
are not going to Beaugency, Gilles. We ride north - to Lavedan."
CHAPTER XVIII
SAINT-EUSTACHE IS OBSTINATE
On the occasion of my first visit to Lavedan I had disregarded - or,
rather, Fate had contrived that I should disregard - Chatellerault's
suggestion that I should go with all the panoply of power - with my
followers, my liveries, and my equipages to compose the magnificence
all France had come to associate with my name, and thus dazzle by
my brilliant lustre the lady I was come to win. As you may remember,
I had crept into the chateau like a thief in the night, - wounded,
bedraggled, and of miserable aspect, seeking to provoke compassion
rather than admiration.
Not so now that I made my second visit. I availed myself of all
the splendour to which I owed my title of "Magnificent," and rode
into the courtyard of the Chateau de Lavedan preceded by twenty
well-mounted knaves wearing the gorgeous Saint-Pol liveries of
scarlet and gold, with the Bardelys escutcheon broidered on the
breasts of their doublets - on a field or a bar azure surcharged by
three lilies of the field.
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