He had huddled on a dressing-gown, and looked so wretched and forlorn that I almost felt it in my heart to pity him.  But the mob showed no mercy, greeting him with cries of “Assassin!” “Murderer!” and declaring loudly that he was unfit to live.

As soon as their shouts ceased, I exclaimed, “Monsieur Cordel, an attempt has been made on my life, and it is rumoured that you hired the men to kill me.  Perhaps you will satisfy these good people that they are mistaken!”

He leaned over the railing and looked down, his face yellow, his eyes staring, evidently in abject fear for his life.

“My friends,” he cried desperately, and it made one laugh to hear him address these peasants, whom he utterly despised, as his friends, “I know nothing; I am innocent; I have conspired against no man’s life.  I swear it!”

The fellow lied, and knew that I was aware of it, but for the sake of the people themselves, I was bound to protect him.  An attack on the house would be followed by a visit from the king’s troops, and I shuddered to think of the miseries the unfortunate villagers would suffer.

“You hear his denial,” I cried loudly, “you have been deceived.  We cannot punish an innocent man.  Now disperse quietly to your homes.  Have no fear for me; I can hold my own against any assassins who may come to Le Blanc.”

They departed sullenly, still murmuring threats of vengeance, and turning round to shake their motley weapons menacingly at Cordel’s house.

“Now, Monsieur Cordel,” I cried, when the last of them had disappeared, “you can go to sleep without fear.  I rejoice that I got here in time to prevent mischief; but, monsieur,” I added drily, “had the ruffians killed me, I could not have come to your rescue!” and with that parting shot I rode off.

“’Tis a pity you had to stop them,” said Jacques presently; they would have made short work of the rascal.”

“And have been fearfully punished afterwards!”

“As to that, monsieur, he will do them all the mischief he can now if he gets a chance.”

The next morning I sent for Urie and the leading men, lectured them on the folly of their proceedings, pointed out the risks they were running, and made them promise to keep their companions from committing any violence in the future.

“You are more or less in Monsieur Cordel’s power,” I said; “he has strong friends at Court, while I have none, and am unable to protect you.”

“We will be careful,” replied Urie for the others, “but if anything happens to monsieur the rascally lawyer will have need of all his powerful friends.”

The failure of his plot—­if it was his plot—­served to keep the lawyer quiet for a while.  He remained at home with only his own domestics in the house, and although many men kept a strict watch no suspicious-looking stranger was seen to visit him.

Meanwhile the prospects of those of the Religion began to brighten:  the king was apparently throwing off the influence of his mother and brother; it was reported that he relied more and more on the advice of Coligny, and in spite of the Pope and the Guises, he was still stubbornly bent on marrying his sister to Henry of Bearn.