“Tristan, have an eye to this man.”

Olivier knelt down and said coldly, —

“Sire, a sorceress was condemned to death by your court of parliament.

She took refuge in Notre-Dame. The people are trying to take her from thence by main force. Monsieur the provost and monsieur the chevalier of the watch, who have just come from the riot, are here to give me the lie if this is not the truth. The populace is besieging Notre-Dame.”

“Yes, indeed!” said the king in a low voice, all pale and trembling with wrath. “Notre-Dame! They lay siege to our Lady, my good mistress in her cathedral! — Rise, Olivier. You are right. I give you Simon Radin’s charge. You are right.