"You will greatly relieve
me."

"Ay, indeed, I hope it is so," Petitot murmured.

"I will see, and--and return," Blondel repeated, beginning to stammer.
"I--I shall not be a minute." The struggle for composure was vain; his
head was on fire, his limbs twitched. Had it come?

Yet when he reached the door he paused, afraid to open. What if it were
not the _remedium_, what if it were some trifle? What if--but as he
hesitated, his hand, half eager, half reluctant, rested on the latch,
the door slid ajar, and his eyes met the complacent smirking face of his
messenger. He fancied that he read success in Gentilis' looks, and his
heart leapt up. "I shall be back in a moment," he babbled, speaking over
his shoulder to those whom he left. "In a moment, gentlemen, one
moment!" And going out he closed the door behind him--closed it
jealously, that they might not hear.

"I hope he has news will decide him," Petitot muttered lowering his
voice involuntarily. "Messer Blondel is over-courageous for me!" He
shook his head dismally.

"He is very courageous," Fabri assented in the same undertone. "Perhaps
even--a little rash."

Baudichon grunted. "Rash!" he repeated. "I would like to know what he
expects? I would like to know----"

A cry as of a wild beast cut short the word: a blow, a shriek of pain
followed, the door flew open; as they rose to their feet in wonder, into
the room fell a lad--it was Louis--a red weal across his face, his arm
raised to protect his head. Close on him, his eyes flaming, his cane
quivering in the air, pressed Messer Blondel. In their presence he aimed
another blow at the lad: but the blow fell short, and before he could
raise his stick a third time the astonished looks of the three in the
room reminded him where he was, and in a measure sobered him. But he was
still unable to articulate: and the poor smarting wretch cowering behind
the magistrates was not more deeply or more visibly moved.

"Steady, steady, Messer Blondel!" Fabri said. "I fear something untoward
has happened. What is it?" And he put himself more decidedly between
them.

"He has ruined us!"

"Not that, I hope?"

"Ruined us! Ruined us!" Blondel panted, his rage almost choking him. "He
had it in his hands and let it go. He let it go!"

"That which you----"

"That which I"--a pause--"commissioned him to get."

"But you did not! Oh, worshipful gentlemen," Gentilis wailed, turning to
them, "indeed, he did not tell me to bring au