His fury had become a cold thing like a glacier.
"I know him!" he whispered to Champernoun.

"He is the Italian Petrucci.
He is our first quarry." "The second will be that damned friar," was the Englishman's answer.
Suddenly the ring of men-at-arms drew inward as a horseman rode out of the gate followed by half a dozen attendants.

He was a tall young man, very noble to look upon, with a flushed face like a boy warm from the game of paume.

His long satin coat was richly embroidered, and round his neck hung the thick gold collar of some Order.

He was wiping a stain from his sleeve with a fine lawn handkerchief.
"What is that thing gilt like a chalice ?" whispered Champernoun.
"Henry of Guise," said Gaspard.
The Duke caught sight of the two men in the centre of the ring.