“At that time,” said James Douglas, “I had not the right to add ’of Douglas’ to my titles.  But during this year my father hath succeeded to the Earldom and estates.”

“What—­then is your father Duke of Touraine?” cried the Duke of Brittany, much astonished.

“Nay, my lord,” said James Douglas, with some little bitterness.  “The King of France hath caused that to revert to himself by the success which attended a certain mission executed for him in Scotland by his Chamberlain, the Marshal de Retz, concerning whom we have come from far to speak with you.”

“Ah, my cousin Gilles!” cried Duke John.  “He is not a beauty to look at, but he is a brave man, our Gilles.  I heard he had gone to Scotland.  I wonder if he contrived to make himself as popular in your land as he has done in ours.”

With a certain grave severity to which Pierre de l’Hopital nodded approval, the Lord James replied:  “At the instigation of the King of France and Louis the Dauphin he succeeded in murdering my two cousins William and David of Douglas, and in carrying over hither with him to his own country their only sister, the little Countess of Galloway—­thus rooting out the greatest house in Scotland to the hurt of the whole realm.”

“But to your profit, my Lord James of Avondale,” commented the hollow voice of Pierre de l’Hopital, speaking over his master’s head.

The face of James Douglas flushed quickly.

“No, messire,” he answered with a swift heat.  “Not to my profit—­to my infinite loss.  For I loved my cousin.  I honoured him, and for his sake would have fought to the death.  For his sake have I renounced my own father that begat me.  And for his sake I stand here to ask for justice to the little maiden, the last of his race, to whom by right belongs the fairest province of his dominions.  No, messire, you are wrong.  In all this have I had no profit but only infinite hurt.”

Pierre de l’Hopital bowed low.  There was a pleased look on his face that almost amounted to a smile.

“I crave your pardon, my lord,” he said; “that is well said indeed, and he is a gentleman who speaks it.”

“Aye, it is indeed well said, and he had you shrewdly on the hip that time, Pierre,” cried Duke John.  “I wish he could teach me thus cleverly to answer you when you croak.”

“If you had as good a cause, my lord,” said the President of Brittany to the Duke, “it were not difficult to answer me as sharply.  But we are keeping these gentlemen from declaring the purpose of their journey hither.”

The Lord James waited for no further invitation.

“I come,” he said boldly, holding a parchment in his hand, the same he had received from the Lady Sybilla, “to denounce Gilles de Retz and to accuse him of many cruel and unrighteous acts such as have never been done in any kingdom.  I accuse him of the murder of over four hundred children of all ages and both sexes in circumstances of unparalleled barbarity.  I am ready to lead you to the places where lie their bodies, some of them burned and their ashes cast into the ditch, others charred and thrown into unused towers.  I have here names, instances, evidence enough to taint and condemn a hundred monsters such as Gilles de Retz.”