imself
had bidden me write.

"I, Norman Leslie, of--of Peet--What name is this? Peet--I cannot utter
it."

"Passez outre," quoth D'Aulon.

"I, Norman Leslie, being now in the article of death"--here the leech
glanced at me, shaking his head mournfully--"do attest on my hope of
salvation, and do especially desire Madame Jeanne La Pucelle, and all
Frenchmen and Scots loyal to our Sovereign Lord the Dauphin, to accept my
witness that Brother Thomas, of the Order of St. Francis, called
Noiroufle while of the world, has been most truly and righteously accused
by me of divers deeds of black treason."

At these words the cordelier's hand leaped up from his breast, his
crucifix dagger glittered bright, he tore his frock from D'Aulon's grip,
leaving a rag of it in his hand, and smote, aiming at the squire where
the gorget joins the vambrace. Though he missed by an inch, yet so
terrible was the blow that D'Aulon reeled against the wall, while the
broken blade jingled on the stone floor. Then the frock of the friar
whisked through the open door of the chamber; we heard the stairs cleared
in two leaps, and D'Aulon, recovering his feet, rushed after the false
priest. But he was in heavy armour, the cordelier's bare legs were
doubtless the nimbler, and the physician, crossing himself, could only
gape and stare on the paper in his hand. As he gazed with his mouth open
his eyes fell on me, white as my sheets, that were dabbled with the blood
from my mouth.

"Nom Dieu!" he stammered, "Nom Dieu! here is business more to my mind and
my trade than chasing after mad cordeliers that stab with crucifixes!"

Then, coming to my side, he brought water, bathed my face, and did what
his art might do for a man in such deadly extremity as was mine. In
which care he was still busy when D'Aulon returned, panting, having sent
a dozen of townsfolk to hunt the friar, who had made good his flight over
garden walls, and was now skulking none knew where. D'Aulon would fain
have asked me concerning the mystery of the confession in which Brother
Thomas had placed his hope so unhappily, but the physician forbade him to
inquire, or me to answer, saying that it was more than my life was worth.
But on D'Aulon's battered armour there was no deeper dint than that dealt
by the murderous crucifix.

Thus this second time did Brother Thomas make his way out of our hands,
the devil aiding him, as always; for it seemed that ropes could not bind
or water d