"And you, by your leave," Tavannes sneered, "are--"
"Archdeacon and Vicar of the Bishop of Angers and Prior of the Lesser
Brethren of St. Germain, M. le Comte. Visitor also of the Diocese of
Angers," the dignitary continued, puffing out his cheeks, "and Chaplain
to the Lieutenant-Governor of Saumur, whose unworthy brother I am."
"A handsome glove, and well embroidered!" Tavannes retorted in a tone of
disdain. "The hand I see yonder!" He pointed to the lean parchment mask
of Father Pezelay, who coloured ever so faintly, but held his peace under
the sneer. "You are bound for Angers?" Count Hannibal continued. "For
what purpose, Sir Prior?"
"His Grace the Bishop is absent, and in his absence--"
"You go to fill his city with strife! I know you! Not you!" he
continued, contemptuously turning from the Prior, and regarding the third
of the principal figures of the party. "But you! You were the Cure who
got the mob together last All Souls'."
"I speak the words of Him Who sent me!" answered the third Churchman,
whose brooding face and dull curtained eyes gave no promise of the fits
of frenzied eloquence which had made his pulpit famous in Paris.
"Then Kill and Burn are His alphabet!" Tavannes retorted, and heedless of
the start of horror which a saying so near blasphemy excited among the
Churchmen, he turned to Father Pezelay. "And you! You, too, I know!" he
continued. "And you know me! And take this from me. Turn, father!
Turn! Or worse than a broken head--you bear the scar, I see--will befall
you. These good persons, whom you have moved, unless I am in error, to
take this journey, may not know me; but you do, and can tell them. If
they will to Angers, they must to Angers. But if I find trouble in
Angers when I come, I will hang some one high. Don't scowl at me,
man!"--in truth, the look of hate in Father Pezelay's eyes was enough to
provoke the exclamation. "Some one, and it shall not be a bare patch on
the crown will save his windpipe from squeezing!"
A murmur of indignation broke from the preachers' attendants; one or two
made a show of drawing their weapons. But Count Hannibal paid no heed to
them, and had already turned on his heel when Father Pezelay spurred his
mule a pace or two forward. Snatching a heavy brass cross from one of
the acolytes, he raised it aloft, and in the voice which had often
thrilled the heated congregation of St. Magloire, he called on Tavannes
to pause.
"Stand, my lord!" he cried. "And take warning! Stand, reckless and
profane, whose face is set hard as a stone, and his heart as a flint,
against High Heaven and Holy Church! Stand and hear! Behold the word of
the Lord is gone out against this city, even against Angers, for the
unbelief thereof! Her place shall be left unto her desolate, and her
children shall be dashed against the stones! Woe unto you, therefore, if
you gainsay it, or fall short of that which is commanded! You shall
perish as Achan, the son of Charmi, and as Saul! The curse that has gone
out against you shall not tarry, nor your days continue! For the
Canaanitish woman that is in your house, and for the thought that is in
your heart, the place that was yours is given to another! Yea, the sword
is even now drawn that shall pierce your side!"