"What news, friend?" he asked.
The man was in an anguish of terror, but he recognised his former guest.
"There is a band on the quay," he stammered. "They are mad and do not know
a Catholic when they see him. They would have killed me, had not the good
Father Antoine held them till I made off."
"Who leads them?" Gaspard asked, having a premonition.
"A tall man in crimson with a broken plume."
"How many?"
"Maybe a hundred, and at least half are men-at-arms."
Gaspard turned to Champernoun.
"We have found our quarry," he said.
Then he spoke to his following, and noted with comfort that it was now some
hundred strong, and numbered many swords. "There is a Huguenot band before
us," he cried. "They wear our crosses, and this honest fellow has barely
escaped from them. They are less than three score. On them, my gallant
lads, before they increase their strength, and mark specially the long man
in red, for he is the Devil. It may be Navarre is with them."
The mob needed no second bidding.
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