Whatever Count Hannibal had it in his mind to tell the city, it seemed unlikely--and hour by hour it seemed less likely--that any would contradict him.
He knew this as he walked in the sunlight before the inn, his spurs ringing on the stones as he made each turn, his movements watched by a hundred peering eyes.

After all, it was not hard to rule, nor to have one's way in this world.

But then, he went on to remember, not every one had his self-control, or that contempt for the weak and unsuccessful which lightly took the form of mercy.

He held Angers safe, curbed by his gibbets.

With M.de Montsoreau he might have trouble; but the trouble would be slight, for he knew Montsoreau, and what it was the Lieutenant- Governor valued above profitless bloodshed.
He might have felt less confident had he known what was passing at that moment in a room off the small cloister of the Abbey of St.Aubin, a room known at Angers as the Little Chapter-house.