until he was within touch of his prey, when he suddenly flung out his great hand and caught his enemy by the throat, gripping him into silence while his right hand bared and brandished a dagger. The figure in black dropped under his grasp, trembled and gasped, but the hand of Thibaut was too strong upon him and he could not speak or cry out. Thibaut hissed at him:
"Sire, I can decipher your destiny. Do not speak or I will kill you!"
He pressed the point of the dagger close to the captive's neck and smiled to see him shudder.
"I am Thibaut d'Aussigny, sire, whom you thought to be dead, but who lives to prison you."
As he spoke his companions emerged from the gloom and gathered around Thibaut and the king, a little menacing circle of determined men.
"You are in the toils. Silent you are still a man; give tongue and you are simple carrion. You must come to the knees of Burgundy. You shall be the Duke's footstool!"
The cowering black figure wriggled and quivered as if every one of Thibaut's words were a stroke of a whip that cut into his flesh; his eager hands clawed piteously at Thibaut's grasping arm, until his very agony of terror aroused the contempt of his captor.
