Therefore it was that when the landlord mentioned him, I forgot even my hunger.
"He was shot, my lords, as he passed through the Rue des Fosses, yesterday," the man declared with bated breath.

"It is not known whether he will live or die.

Paris is in an uproar, and there are some who fear the worst." "But," I said doubtfully, "who has dared to do this?
He had a safe conduct from the king himself." Our host did not answer; shrugging his shoulders instead, he opened the door, and ushered us into the eating-room.
Some preparations for our meal had already been made at one end of the long board.

At the other was seated a man past middle age; richly but simply dressed.

His grey hair, cut short about a massive head, and his grave, resolute face, square-jawed, and deeply-lined, marked him as one to whom respect was due apart from his clothes.