But equally sure was she that she would not so refuse him were he now to offer as the price of her compliance the life of Garnache, which she accounted irrevocably doomed.
Suddenly his steady, soothing voice penetrated her anguished musings.
"Calm yourself, mademoiselle; all is far, from lost as yet." She thought that he but spoke so to comfort her; she did not follow the working of his warlike mind, concentrated entirely upon the business of the moment, with little thought--or care, for that matter--for what might betide anon.

Yet she made an effort to repress her sobs.

She would be brave, if only to show herself worthy of the companionship and friendship of so brave a man.
Across his barricade he peered into the outer room to ascertain with what fresh opponents he might have to reckon, and he was surprised to see but four men standing by Fortunio, whilst behind them among the thicker shadows, he dimly made out a woman's figure and, beside her, another man who was short and squat.
He bethought him that the hour, and the circumstance that most of the mercenaries would be in their beds, accounted for the reinforcement not being greater.
The woman moved forward, and he saw as he had suspected, that it was the Dowager herself.

The squat figure beside her, moving with her into the shaft of light that fell from the doorway Garnache defended, revealed to him the features of Monsieur de Tressan.

If any doubt he had still entertained concerning the Seneschal's loyalty, that doubt was now dispelled.
And now the Dowager uttered a sudden cry of fear.