d'Andreghen--newly escaped from prison and with his disposition
unameliorated by Lord Audley's gaolership,--had heard of these letters
that Hugues wrote so constantly; and the Marshal, being no scholar, had
frowned at such doings, and waited presently, with a company of horse, on
the road to Arques. Into their midst, on the day before Adhelmar came,
rode Peire, the one-eyed messenger; and it was not an unconscionable
while before Peire was bound hand and foot, and d'Andreghen was reading
the letter they had found in Peire's jerkin. "Hang the carrier on that
oak," said d'Andreghen, when he had ended, "but leave that largest branch
yonder for the writer. For by the Blood of Christ, our common salvation!
I will hang him there on Monday!"

So Peire swung in the air ere long and stuck out a black tongue at the
crows, who cawed and waited for supper; and presently they feasted while
d'Andreghen rode to Arques, carrying a rope for Hugues.

For the Marshal, you must understand, was a man of sudden action. Only
two months ago, he had taken the Comte de Harcourt with other gentlemen
from the Dauphin's own table to behead them that afternoon in a field
behind Rouen. It was true they had planned to resist the _gabelle_, the
King's immemorial right to impose a tax on salt; but Harcourt was Hugues'
cousin, and the Sieur d'Arques, being somewhat of an epicurean
disposition, esteemed the dessert accorded his kinsman unpalatable.

There was no cause for great surprise to d'Andreghen, then, to find that
the letter Hugues had written was meant for Edward, the Black Prince of
England, now at Bordeaux, where he held the French King, whom the Prince
had captured at Poictiers, as a prisoner; for this prince, though he had
no particular love for a rogue, yet knew how to make use of one when
kingcraft demanded it,--and, as he afterward made use of Pedro the