But he had
not counted upon the good feeling that had sprung up betwixt the little
Gascon captain and me, nor yet upon my having contrived to convince the
latter that I was, indeed, Bardelys, and he little dreamt of such a step
as I was about to take to ensure his punishment hereafter.

Resolved at last, I was commencing to write when my attention was
arrested by an unusual sound. It was at first no more than a murmuring
noise, as of at sea breaking upon its shore. Gradually it grew its
volume and assumed the shape of human voices raised in lusty clamour.
Then, above the din of the populace, a gun boomed out, then another, and
another.

I sprang up at that, and, wondering what might be toward, I crossed to
my barred window and stood there listening. I overlooked the courtyard
of the jail, and I could see some commotion below, in sympathy, as it
were, with the greater commotion without.

Presently, as the populace drew nearer, it seemed to me that the
shouting was of acclamation. Next I caught a blare of trumpets, and,
lastly, I was able to distinguish above the noise, which had now grown
to monstrous proportions, the clattering hoofs of some cavalcade that
was riding past the prison doors.

It was borne in upon me that some great personage was arriving in
Toulouse, and my first thought was of the King. At the idea of such a
possibility my brain whirled and I grew dizzy with hope. The next moment
I recalled that but last night Roxalanne had told me that he was no
nearer than Lyons, and so I put the thought from me, and the hope
with it, for, travelling in that leisurely, indolent fashion that was
characteristic of his every action, it would be a miracle if His Majesty
should reach Toulouse before the week was out, and this but Sunday.

The populace passed on, then seemed to halt, and at last the shouts died
down on the noontide air. I went back to my writing, and to wait until
from my jailer, when next he should chance to appear, I might learn the
meaning of that uproar.

An hour perhaps went by, and I had made some progress with my memoir,
when my door was opened and the cheery voice of Castelroux greeted me
from the threshold.

"Monsieur, I have brought a friend to see you."

I turned in my chair, and one glance at the gentle, comely face and
the fair hair of the young man standing beside Castelroux was enough to
bring me of a sudden to my feet.

"Mironsac!" I shouted, and sprang towards him with hands outst