In the sense in which Astarte would have smiled upon a defenceless sheepfold, so Gilles de Retz might have been said to smile at his visitor.
"You may believe me, sweet Lady Sybilla," said the marshal, "because there is one vice which it is needless for me to practise in your presence, that of uncandour.

I give you my word that unless your friends come worrying me from the land of Scots, the maids shall not die.

Perhaps it were better to warn any visitors that even at Machecoul we are accustomed to deal with such cases.

Is it not so, Astarte ?" At the sound of her name the huge wolf rose slowly, and, walking to her master's knee, she nosed upon him like a favourite hound.
"And if your intent be not that which causes fear to haunt the precincts of your palaces like a night-devouring beast, and makes your name an execration throughout Brittany and the Vendee, why have you carried the little child and the other pretty fool forth from their country?
Was it not enough that you should slay the brothers?
Wherefore was it necessary utterly to cut off the race of the Douglases ?" "Sybilla, dear sister of my sainted Catherine," purred the marshal, "it is your privilege that you should speak freely.

When it is pleasing to me I may even answer you.