and may a sudden end find nothing worse on
our conscience than a dizzy brain. But that's not all. Midway between
the castle and the Loire stands the Valmy gibbet, fair set in the
sunshine and for all to see: and as I rode past there were two hung
from it; two hang from it still, but they are not the same two."

"Thieves," said Commines. "Would you have the roads unsafe?"

"One of to-day's couple is a boy of twelve--unripe fruit for such a
tree, Uncle, and a fearsome danger to the peace of France. Tristan
does well to keep the roads safe from such swaggerers. Twelve years of
life, twelve years of a pinched stomach, and--the justice of the King
to end it all! And what of the woman who gathered nettles for the pot
from the river-bank? The archers shouted to her, but she was hungry,
poor starved soul, and gathered on, bent to all-fours like a beast.
Then they shot her--like a beast. Down she went with an arrow through
the bent back; a woman, Uncle."

"She should have hearkened and kept away," said Commines. "Neither man
nor woman may come near Valmy without permission when the King is here."

"She should have hearkened," echoed La Mothe. "But the Good God had
sealed her ears; she was deaf as a stone and so for the justice of the
King she died. Then three days ago it was Guy de Molembrais, who came
to Valmy--so 'tis said--with the King's safe-conduct."

"Molembrais lost his head as a traitor," answered Commines roughly.

"And the safe-conduct?"

"The safe-conduct was given before Molembrais' treason was fully
proved."

"Then it is the King's justice to lure suspects----"

"There can be no faith with traitors. Did the safe-conduct make his
treason less? Do you not see," he went on, as La Mothe made no reply,
"that Molembrais got no more than his deserts?"

"Like the brawler in Tours," said the lad whimsically. "Perhaps
Tristan gave him a safe-conduct too, and the fool got drunk. And if we
have good, warm blood in us we all get drunk sooner or later. Yes, and
please God my time will come, but may the Saints send me far from
Valmy! You think I'm talking nonsense, Uncle; but Monsieur de Perche
always let me talk. He said it was better to let blow at the bung than
burst the cask."

"You drunk!" answered Commines jestingly. La Mothe had been on very
dangerous ground and a change of subject was an unspeakable relief.
"Why, except the King, no man in Valmy drinks less wine."

"Wine-drunk? Am I a bea