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The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James · English · Gutenberg #50855 · 728,467 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and II

Author: G. P. R. James


        
Release date: January 6, 2016 [eBook #50855]
                Most recently updated: October 22, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN-AT-ARMS; OR, HENRY DE CERONS. VOLUMES I AND II ***

Transcriber's Notes:
   1. Page scan source: Google Books
      https://books.google.com/books?id=7pcuAAAAYAAJ
     (Princeton University)

     2. This volume includes Henry de Cerons Vol. I.
     and Vol. II.; and short stories entitled Eva
     St. Clair and Annie Deer.

     3. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].





THE
MAN-AT-ARMS;
OR,
HENRY DE CERONS.


A ROMANCE.


BY G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.,

AUTHOR OF
"DARNLEY," "DE L'ORME," "CHARLES TYRRELL," "HENRY OF
GUISE," "KING'S HIGHWAY," &c., &c.


IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.



NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1855.






HENRY DE CERONS.
---------------
CHAPTER I.


It is difficult to discover what are the exact sources from which
spring the thrilling feelings of joy and satisfaction with which we
look back to the days of our early youth, and to the scenes in which
our infancy was passed. It matters not, or at least very little, what
are the pleasures to which we have addicted ourselves in after years,
what are the delights that surround us, what are the enjoyments which
Heaven has cast upon our lot. Whenever the mind, either as a voluntary
act or from accidental associations, recalls, by the art of memory,
the period of childhood, and the things which surrounded it, there
comes over us a general gladdening sensation of pure and simple joys
which we never taste again at any time of life. It must be, at least
in part, that the delights of those days were framed in innocence and
ignorance of evil, and that he who declared that of such as little
children consisted the kingdom of heaven, has allotted to the babes of
this world, in the brightness of their innocence, joys similar to
those of the world beyond--joys that never cloy, and that leave no
regret. What though some mortal tears will mix with those delights;
what though the flesh must suffer, and the evil one will tempt; yet
the allotted pleasures have a zest which not even novelty alone can
give, and an imperishable purity in their nature which makes their
remembrance sweeter than the fruition of other joys, and speaks their
origin from heaven.

I love to dwell upon such memories, and to find likenesses for them in
the course, the aspect, and the productions of the earth itself. I see
the same sweetness and the same simplicity pervading the youth of all
nature; and find in the sweet violet, the blue-eyed child of spring,
an image of those early joys, pure, soft, and calm, and full of an
odour that lasts upon the sense more than that of any other flower.

Thus it is, I suppose, and for these causes, that, in looking back
upon the days of my youth, though those days were not as happy and as
bright as they are to many people, I feel a sweet satisfaction which I
knew not at the actual time; for those hours--as one who gives a
diamond to a child--bestowed upon me a gift the value of which I knew
not till many a year had passed away.

My first recollections refer to the period when I was about seven or
eight years old, and to a sweet spot in the far south of France called
Blancford, not far from the great city of Bordeaux. The chateau in
which I dwelt had belonged for ages to my ancestors, and the little
room in one of the turrets which was assigned to me, looked towards
the setting sun over manifold beautiful green slopes and wooded banks,
with now and then a broken, cliffy bit of yellow ground, that
harmonized beautifully and richly with the warm tints of the spring
and the autumn, and broke not less pleasantly the thick green of the
mid year. Upon those banks, and trees, and slopes, the sunshine seemed
to dwell with peculiar fondness; and thither came the bright and
smiling showers of spring, and the rich, vision-like lights and shades
of autumn. Gay hawking parties, and many a splendid cavalcade from the
rich and important town in the neighbourhood, diversified the scenery
during the bright part of the year, and towards the winter-time the
beasts of the forest and the field used to resume their dwelling in
the neighbouring woods, and afford sport and diversion to the
inhabitants of the castle.

As I have said, that chateau had been for centuries the dwelling-place
of my ancestors, ever since, indeed, the arm of Du Guesclin and the
wisdom of Charles had expelled the English from the shores of France;
but still that chateau was not mine, nor ever likely to be mine; for I
was at that time a poor dependant upon the bounty of others, without
wealth, rank, station, or fortune of any kind to give hope to my heart
or energy to my effort.

The lord of that castle, my poor father's first cousin, had taken me
out of compassion to his relation, a poor soldier of fortune, who
married thoughtlessly and died young; and as he himself, a lover of
pleasure--even of license, at the time he took me into his house,
thought only of marriage as a remote evil, he treated me at first with
so much kindness, that the foolish persons who surrounded us imagined
that a time might come when I should be his heir. Nothing, indeed, was
farther from his thoughts. He had always determined, and still held
the resolution of wedding ultimately, in the hope of seeing his
possessions descend to children of his own.

The accomplishment of this purpose was hastened by accidental
circumstances, which placed it in his power to marry a beautiful and
wealthy bride, whom he brought home to the chateau in great pomp, and
the festivities which followed her arrival are among the first events
which I distinctly remember.

Surrounded by friends, and with scarcely a wish ungratified, he might
well consider himself a rich and happy man in the possession of one so
fair as she was. But beauty was not the only quality which she brought
to make him happy, nor riches the only dowry that was settled upon her
head. Never did I see any one who combined more graces of person with
more fine qualities of the heart; never any one who more merited the
love of every one who approached her.

It was evident that she had heard of me before she came, and she
greeted me with a warm and kindly smile, which went direct to my
heart. She gazed upon me at the same time with a look of deep interest
and scrutinizing inquiry, as if she thought to read my character in my
face, or to divine what were the feelings with which I met her. Heaven
knows that I had no feelings but those of sincere joy. I entertained
not the slightest idea that her coming, could have any evil effect
upon my fate; that it would in the least change my destiny or affect
my happiness. Of course, I was utterly ignorant of such things at that
period; the joy that was around me found a ready echo in a heart
naturally joyous, and I laughed, and danced, and sang with the rest,
more unthinking of the morrow than the bird upon the wing.

If the fair lady of Blancford gazed at me when first she came, my
cousin's eyes rested upon me many a time when he saw me so gay and
happy. I know not what it was, but it seemed as if my happiness
displeased him. I have since learned to know that in the human heart
there is often a great difference between remorse and repentance; and
that, when we have done a fellow-creature wrong, when we have pained,
injured, aggrieved--ay, even when we only entertain the purpose of
doing so, we hate that being on account of the very arts for which we
should hate ourselves. I do not mean to say that my cousin had injured
me by his marriage, for surely he had a right to wed where and when he
thought fit. But I am inclined to believe, from facts which I heard
afterward, that the first germe of harsh and unkind feelings towards
me was produced by a conviction that he had treated me with greater
kindness and distinction than he afterward intended to keep up, and
that it was his duty to make a provision for me, against which his
inclination struggled.

There were other matters, of which I may have to speak hereafter,
which increased and perpetuated such feelings. He could not but
recollect that, before the death of my father, he had been liberal of
promises and generous in words; he had told him that he would breed me
up for a soldier; that he would take care that I should have the means
of advancing myself; and now, perhaps, his intentions were changed. If
they were not, they certainly became so after a short time.

He was, at that period, a gay and gallant man of about five or
six-and-thirty years of age, handsome in appearance, specious in
manners and words, with no traces of profligate life in his language
or appearance, and very well fitted to gain and keep the love of any
young heart not thoroughly versed in the ways of mankind. Although his
marriage, as most marriages were at that time, had been arranged
entirely by the relations of the lady, without any reference to her
wishes, yet there is no doubt that she married him with a heart free
from other attachments, and even prepossessed in his favour. From such
feelings, of course, attachment easily sprung up; and, had he merited
it, love, deep, devoted, heartfelt, unchanging love, would indubitably
have followed. But alas! he did not deserve it; he took not the means
to obtain it; and though the attachment remained, that attachment was
mingled with sadness and perhaps with bitterness, and grave melancholy
trod fast upon the steps of feasting and merriment.

For my own part, I was of a cheerful and happy disposition, a little
fanciful perhaps, and somewhat wild; somewhat fond, occasionally, of
solitary wandering and deep thought; but at other periods light and
gay as a butterfly. Thus, then, I felt not, scarcely perceived,
indeed, that the demeanour of the general servants and retainers of my
cousin's house was at all changed towards me; although it was so
changed from the very first day of his marriage. But, had it been
changed ten times as much; had they treated me with neglect, or scorn,
or contemptible malice, the pain would have been more than compensated
by the love and tenderness of that sweet lady, and by the constant
care she showed me.

She first it was who recollected that, born of noble birth, and
connected with many of the great and proud of the land, it was needful
that I should hate the common education and accomplishments of the
day; and she argued that, if I were poor and penniless as her husband
said, and required to make a name and fortune for myself, it was but
the more necessary that, by the cultivation of my mind, even in an
extraordinary degree, I should be provided with the means of
accomplishing the more difficult task that was allotted to me. My
strength of body and an eager, active spirit had already rendered me
familiar with manly exercises in far greater degree than most youths
of my age could boast of. But my mind was totally uncultivated. I
could ride wild horses that many a man could not manage; I could fence
as well as my little strength allowed me; my aim with the arquebus was
true and firm; I know not the time when I could not swim; and my
cousin's pages, though considerably older than myself, were unable to
compete with me in leaping or pitching the bar. But could neither
write nor read, and knew nothing of books or of the world, but by
occasional words which I had heard spoken and treasured up in my
memory.

No sooner did she find that this was the case, than she herself became
my instructress; and oh how kindly did she teach me, day after day,
with unwearied patience; her fingers playing with the curls of my
hair, and her eyes often bent thoughtfully upon me, as if she were
calculating with some melancholy my future destiny and her own.
Perhaps I was stupid, perhaps I was by nature inattentive; but the
love, the deep love that I felt towards her, made me exert every
energy of my mind to give her pleasure and to make her task easy; and,
though the undertaking must have been dull, and my progress slow at
first, yet she always seemed well satisfied, and cheered me on with
words of bright encouragement.

A time soon came, however, when her instructions became somewhat
painful to her; apparently there was a languor in her eyes and in her
tone, which seemed to me strange; and, without being told to do so, I
spoke in a lower tone of voice, I paid more attention to everything
she said, I avoided everything that could disturb or trouble her. It
seemed to me that she was ill, and nature taught me how to act under
such circumstances.

At length, one day, she said to me, "I must give over teaching you for
a time, Henry, but good Monsieur la Tour will take the task till I can
follow it again." And she put me under the charge of the minister of
our little village, or rather, indeed, of the chateau, a good man as
ever lived, who had always shown himself fond of me, and who now
followed up, with zeal and kindness, that which she had so kindly and
generously begun. The whole family, and every one in the immediate
neighbourhood, were, as is well known, of the Reformed religion, and
my cousin, the Baron de Blancford, was at that time absent with the
Protestant army.

Shortly after, however, he returned, sent for, I believe, to be
present at the birth of his first child, and great anxiety manifested
itself in the household for several days. Fears were entertained for
the safety of the lady, and great precautions taken; but at length I
heard that the baroness had given birth to a child, and that she
herself was proceeding favourably. With my heart full of joy and
satisfaction, I ran to congratulate my cousin, thinking that there
could be nothing but similar feelings in his own heart. He pushed me
angrily away from him, however, exclaiming, "You fool, it is only a
girl!"

Not understanding what he meant, or comprehending in the slightest
degree why the birth of a girl should give him less satisfaction than
if a son had been born, I ran to the room of Monsieur la Tour, and
told him what had happened; and then it was, for the first time, that
I was made to understand how great was the difference made by the
customs of the world between two classes of beings naturally equal. A
vague idea, too, of my own circumstances was also communicated to my
mind, and from that time the change which had taken place, and which
daily increased, in the deportment of my cousin's servants towards me,
was marked, understood, and felt painfully. Two days after the birth
of his daughter the baron again left the chateau, but he remained long
enough to make me feel most bitterly that I was no longer the boy that
he had sported with and loved in former years.

The lady soon recovered, and resumed her care of me without a change.
She loved to have me with her; she loved to see me play with her
infant; and, as month after month proceeded, the child's affection for
me grew stronger and more strong, till there was none but her mother
that she loved so well.

About a year and a half afterward a son was born; and then another;
and from the birth of the first I found that I was no longer an object
of consideration to any one except to the good clergyman, whose
affection towards me seemed to increase as that of others diminished,
and to the sweet lady, who never for a moment, in her love and care
for others, forgot her love and care for me. A change had come over
the whole household, however; the lover had long been forgotten in the
husband, the husband had been forgotten in the man of pleasure.
Whenever any short cessation of hostilities permitted him to visit the
capital, it was in Paris that the Lord of Blancford's time was wholly
spent, and at other periods his days were passed in the pleasures of
other great towns, afar from the family which required his care and
direction, and from the wife whose love he had cast away.

On her part, she showed not the slightest inclination to depart from
his expressed wish that she would remain at the chateau of Blancford.
She loved not great cities; she sought not to indemnify herself for
her husband's neglect by following the same evil course in which he
led: she enjoyed fully and entirely the pleasures of rural life, and
found in the duties of a mother the greatest consolation and delight.
Once in the course of the month, perhaps, she visited Bordeaux with
the state becoming her rank and station, called upon some of the chief
ladies of the city, and returned home after having remained there but
a few hours. Very frequently, on these occasions, I accompanied her,
and the kindness with which she mentioned me to all who were really
good and estimable, seemed to bespeak for me their future protection
and regard, although she never even hinted at such an object.

I was her companion almost always in her walks, too; and from her
conversation I daily gained information upon subjects with which
otherwise, most probably, I should never have been acquainted; for she
took a delight in forming and expanding my mind, and, while she
endeavoured to instil principles even more than knowledge, she
illustrated for me the lessons she gave by facts and examples which
often drew her on to farther explanations, and which certainly
remained in my memory, storing it with much that was curious,
interesting, and beautiful. Thus there was scarcely a circumstance
which ever happened to me in after life which did not cause me to
recollect some example from her instruction which might teach me to
know the right from the wrong, to choose the good from the bad, or to
return from the evil, when I had been led into wrong, by the shortest
and most expeditious way.

In short, though she often fell into fits of musing, she seldom lost
an opportunity of giving my mind improvement. If I fixed upon a wild
flower, she told me its nature and its qualities; if I watched a
passing cloud, she explained to me how sweet and beneficial to the
earth's surface are the light vapours that float gently over it,
descending in light rain to render everything fertile and productive;
and she would explain to me, as well as she could, what were the
beneficial effects produced by winds and storms that seemed to my
imagination tremendous, pointing still to the all-powerful hand of
Providence, shaping still the events of this world with never-erring
wisdom directing never-failing might.

From her conversation, from her train of thought, my mind took the
peculiar turn which it ever after retained; and even to the present
day, after scenes of peril, and danger, and activity; after having
gained, by sad experience, knowledge of the world, and become
hackneyed and keen in the wisdom of the earth, many of the words that
she spoke to me, many of the counsels that she gave, come back upon my
ear in all the fresh sweetness of the tones in which it was originally
spoken, and I feel myself better, happier, more contented, when thus
dwell with her for a moment in the wide tracts of memory, than I do
when fulfilling any of the ordinary duties of my state and station.

What she herself could not do to improve my mind the good priest did;
he applied himself to teach me sciences; to read other languages than
my own, both dead and living; to argue by rule; to write my native
language with accuracy; to calculate arithmetically; and to do all, in
short, that he himself could do, which was more, perhaps, than my
after fate required. It was some years, of course, ere I gained much
facility in everything, but ere four years had passed after my
cousin's marriage I had become quite a different being. The formidable
obstacles that await us at the entrance of every science had given
way, and during the following year, which was the fourteenth of my
age, I made greater progress than I had done in any other. I had now
acquired a taste for the poetry which had descended to us from other
days; and from that high and ennobling source I drank long, deep
draughts of pure and unmingled delight. I found, too, that there were
works of infinite value, full of fancy and of wit, full of instruction
and amusement, in other languages besides either French, or Greek, or
Latin; and, almost unaided--for my good preceptor knew little of that
tongue himself--I made myself a tolerable master of the Italian
language, and felt like one who has suddenly discovered a treasure
when the works of Dante and Boccaccio, and the newer poems of Tasso,
fell into my hands.

Nevertheless, I did not in any degree neglect the usual exercises of
which I had formerly been fond. There were always a number of old
military retainers about the house, who were willing and eager to
teach me everything that could be taught in the profession to which
they had devoted themselves. I did not, it is true, follow any study
with great regularity, but I followed all and each with eagerness, and
zeal, and devotion.

When the baroness could give me up any of her time, she was always the
first I sought, and then the good minister La Tour. But he had many
duties to perform, and, during the rest of the day, every sport of the
field that was going on I followed with eagerness; every instruction I
could get in military exercises I sought continually, and listened
with deep and profound attention to all that the old officers or
soldiers could tell me of discipline and of tactics, or to their tales
of terrible sieges, well-fought fields, and marvellous escapes. I was
one of the best of listeners; and, flattered by the attention that I
paid them, they were always willing to amuse or to instruct me. The
courtyard of the castle became the mimic field of battle, the walls
the sisterus, the stables the fortifications of a besieged city; and
everything that was at hand was pressed into our service, either as
the animate or inanimate materials of war. All the tales that they
told me were delightful to me, but more especially so were those in
which my father's name was introduced, and when I heard deep regrets
expressed for his early death, and praises of the promise that he had
displayed as a soldier and a commander.

In the mean while, the greater part of the servants and retainers of
the household treated me completely as the poor dependant; the little
services I required were neglected; any direction that I gave was
heard in silence, or replied to with contemptuous lightness; and, in
order as far as possible to keep myself from the irritation of petty
insolence, I was obliged to avoid all communication with the domestics
of the chateau.

In the presence of their mistress, indeed, the servants dared not
behave in such a manner, and when her eye was on them they showed me
every sort of reverence and respect; once also I remember her rebuking
one of the grooms for neglecting my horse, speaking to him in a manner
so severe, as to work a permanent change in his conduct, and in some
degree to affect his companions.

These slight inconveniences, however, did not in the least depress my
spirit or keep down my gayety. Youth's buoyant and happy blood beat
in every limb, my heart was light, my cheerfulness unchecked; and,
though I learned when any one neglected me to punish by a cutting
word, yet it was always done with light and happy gayety, and
forgotten almost as soon as it was spoken, at least by myself.

Thus years rolled on, and during the frequent and long-continued
absence of my cousin, his children learned to love me with a strong
affection; and, taking a model from the domestic circle of a
neighbouring family, my imagination pictured for me a future fate like
that of a person whom I frequently beheld situated in very similar
circumstances. He was at this time a man well advanced in life, and,
like me, the cousin of the lord of the castle. But he had gained
considerable renown in arms. The father of the family, who was now
withheld from active service by the effects of severe wounds, confided
to him the leading of his retainers; the children clung to him with
reverence and affection; and the two eldest were, even at that very
time, trying their first arms under the sword of their veteran cousin.
He possessed no property, he sought none; but he lived with people who
reverenced and loved him: he had his own honoured seat by the hall
fire; his tales were listened to and sought for with delight by all,
and his counsel or assistance was asked by the father when any matter
of real danger or difficulty arose, by the elder sons in the mysteries
of the chase or the mew, and by the younger children in any of the
small sorrows or difficulties which were to them as important as wars
or sieges.

I fancied myself, I say, like him; winning renown in arms, gaining a
station by my own deeds, and seeing the young beings that I loved so
tenderly as babes, grow up round me as round an elder brother.

But oh, how vainly, how youthfully did I calculate! My cousin, when he
returned to the castle after any of his long absences, had now become
harsh and stern. Me he treated with utter neglect and coldness; he saw
me dine at his table without addressing a word to me; he met me
without any kind gratulation: he heard me wish him joy of his return
with scarcely an answering word. When he looked at me it was coldly;
and I could not but feel that I was a burden to him.

When I was about fifteen years of age, he one morning took the pains
to ask what progress I had made in my studies. The question was
addressed to Monsieur la Tour, but in my presence. The clergyman
replied with high praise; higher, I believe, than I deserved; and the
baron's reply was, "Don't you think you can contrive to make a priest
of him, La Tour?"

My blood boiled, I confess, but my cousin turned away without waiting
for any reply, having satisfied himself that, by the question he had
asked and the suggestion he had made, he quite fulfilled his duty
towards me, at least for the time.

I thought, however, of the days when I had sat upon his knee, and when
he had said that he would make a little hero of me: that I should be a
Bayard or a Du Guesclin.

He was absent after that visit for more than two years; and there were
tales reached the chateau of some fair dame in the capital who
withheld the baron from his wife, his children, and his duties, and
kept him in bonds stronger than the green withes of Delilah.

The health of the baroness had for some time been declining; she had
now been married ten years, and of that period she had known a few
months perhaps of visionary happiness, two or three years of calm,
unmurmuring tranquillity, and six or seven of anguish and sorrow. Her
little girl, Louisa, was now nine years of age, the image of her
mother in everything--features, complexion, disposition; there was the
difference, of course, between the woman and the child, but still
there was the same small, taper hand, the same beautiful foot, the
same brilliant complexion, the same open, clear forehead, the same
thoughtful but ingenuous smile. She was with her mother constantly or
with me, and it was she who even at that age first discovered the
progress of illness in the being she best loved, and pointed out to me
the flushed cheek, the bright and glittering eye, the pale lips, and
the features daily becoming sharp.

"Do you not think, Henry," she said to me one day, "That mamma looks
ill?" And then she went on to say in what particular it appeared to
her that it was so, showing that she had watched her mother's
countenance in a way most strange for a child of her age.

When my attention was thus called to the subject, I remarked the
change also, and I and Louisa used to watch with care and anxiety the
progress of disease. We neither of us knew, we neither of us fully
comprehended to what it all tended. It was not exactly fear that we
entertained, but it was grief; we grieved to see her suffer, we
grieved to see the languor and weakness that crept over her frame.

At length the baron returned, but his return contributed very little
to the restoration of his wife's health. He brought with him many gay
and riotous companions; the castle was filled with revelry and
merriment: he was absent at the chase or in the city during the
greater part of each day; and the night went down in songs, and mirth,
and drinking. He soon went away again to the capital, and his wife
continued withering slowly, like a flower, whose day of brightness is
over.

Such was the course of events for some years till I reached the age of
twenty, when the health of the baroness so completely and rapidly gave
way, that messengers were sent off in all haste to call her husband to
the side of her deathbed. He came, and, though he came unwillingly,
yet he was evidently pained and struck at the sight of the ruin and
decay which he now beheld. He was gloomy and sorrowful, and it might
be some consolation to his dying wife to find that, when all was
irrevocable, and neither tears nor regrets could recall the past, he
mourned for the approaching loss of one whose worth he had not
sufficiently estimated, and felt feelings of affection towards her
which he had not known till it was too late.

The Lady of Blancford died, and the grief of all, good and bad alike,
followed her to the grave; for there was a sweetness, and a
gentleness, and a kindness in her nature which touched the heart even
of the selfish and the vicious, and made them mourn for her as soon as
her virtues were no longer a living reproach to their errors.

At the time of her death, her daughter and eldest child was little
more than twelve years old, the two boys somewhat younger than eleven
and ten; and well might the father, when he looked round upon their
young faces, feel that his hearth was left desolate: well might he
regret, in the bitterness of his heart, that he had not sufficiently
valued the blessing he had possessed.

That he felt such sensations I am perfectly sure, but he felt them
with a degree of sullenness as well as sorrow. Conscience lashed him,
but he bore its chastisement with obdurate pride, and murmured at the
smart.

I did not see him for several days after the funeral of his wife, and,
indeed, since his return he had taken scarcely any notice of me,
seeming not even to see me. But, soon after, I saw his eyes fix upon
me, from time to time, with a dull and frowning aspect; and to bear
such cold unkindness had by this time become a burden to me, which I
was resolved to cast off. The one whom, of all others, I had loved
best from my early days, was now gone; and, though I loved all her
children, and especially Louisa, who now clung to me as her only prop
and stay in her overpowering grief for her mother, yet I felt that I
could not endure any longer the proud coldness of my cousin, since the
tie between him and me, which his wife's care and tenderness had
afforded, was broken for ever.

"I have at least my father's sword," I thought; "With that he gained
his living, and with it will I gain mine."

But there was much to be thought of, there was much to be done. "What
course," I asked myself, "shall I choose what plans shall I pursue?"
And much I meditated even these matters, but meditated always alone:
for there was none whom I could consult, none in whom I could confide.
To Monsieur la Tour, who loved me as his own son, I would not speak of
the matter at all, for I knew that he would oppose my going; and my
cousin himself, of course, I did not choose to consult; for the proud
air of contempt with which he had long treated me, made me feel that
his advice could not be such as I could follow without pain; and any
assistance that he offered could only be an indignity to receive. I
was utterly ignorant of the world, and of the world's ways; and
though, perhaps, I was not deficient in natural acuteness, yet life
was to me an unknown country, full of thick woods and tangled paths,
without a map to show me the road or a guide to direct my footsteps
aright.

Although it was now the winter-time, and the sere leaves had fallen
from the trees, leaving the woods thin and naked, yet it was in the
forest which came near to the chateau that I loved to take my way and
dream of my future prospects.

An event, however, occurred one day, which deranged all these plans
for the time, and suspended their execution for more than two years. I
had gone out, as usual, on foot, and wandered a considerable way into
the wood, when suddenly, as I was walking up and down, gazing upon the
icy bondage of the stream, and the feathery frost upon the rushes and
other water plants, I heard what seemed a loud but distant cry of
distress.

It struck me instantly that the voice was a familiar one; and,
crossing the stream, I rushed on like lightning to the spot whence it
seemed to proceed. There I found the eldest of my cousin's sons,
Charles, a noble and high-spirited, but somewhat weakly boy, thrown
down upon the ground by an immense wolf, whose fangs were fixed in his
shoulder. The animal, it seems, had sprung at his throat, and knocked
him down by the force of its attack; but, even in falling, the boy,
with noble presence of mind, had struck the animal with his dagger,
and prevented it from taking the fatal grasp which it sought, and
which certainly would have terminated his existence before I arrived.

A loud shout which I gave as I came up, to scare the beast as fast as
possible from his prey, made the wolf instantly turn upon me, with its
peculiar, fierce, low howl. I had been accustomed, however, to hunt
such beasts in these woods for many years; and, as he rushed upon me,
I struck him a violent blow with my sword across the eyes, which
almost blinded him, and dashed him down to my feet at once. But, mad
with hunger and pain, the beast, even in falling, seized my leg in his
fangs, and never let go his hold till he was quite dead. I killed and
threw him off as quickly as possible; and then, running to my young
cousin, carried him home to the castle without the pause of a moment,
although the wound I had received in my leg was extremely painful, and
the blood marked my track all the way to the gates.

The boy was but little hurt, and from his wound no serious consequence
arose; mine also was of little importance, though it left me lame for
several weeks. My cousin, however, on the following morning, thought
fit to thank me for the service I had rendered his son; and at the
same time he presented me with some trinkets and jewels, which, he
said, his wife had requested might be given to me, as remembrances of
her. There was much coldness and constraint in his manner while he
spoke, and the purpose which I had entertained for some time now broke
forth.

"My lord," I said, "I thank you for these things, which I shall always
keep and value highly in memory of one from whom I have never received
anything but benefits and kindness."

The baron was turning away, but I added, "Stay, my lord; I have yet
more to say. It is not often that I trouble you with words, and now
shall not make them very lengthy."

The baron turned round towards me with evident surprise at my tone and
manner, and with some sternness, but without the slightest touch of
scorn, demanding, "What is it you wish to say?"

"Merely this, sir," I replied; "I have been somewhat too long a burden
to you. I am now more than twenty years of age, and ought probably to
have done before what I intend to do now, namely, seek my own
fortunes, and endeavour to provide for my own necessities, without
remaining dependant upon any one. I am perfectly competent, I believe,
in every respect, to gain my bread as my father did his. I ask nothing
of you in any shape; and only now seek to inform you that I will leave
the chateau to-morrow, with many thanks for the shelter and bread you
have afforded me."

I never in my life beheld the countenance of my cousin express so much
surprise. I saw him waver for a moment, as if he were going to turn
and leave me with contempt; but the grief he had lately suffered, the
chastening sight of death, and the service which I had rendered to his
son, gave to a better spirit than that which usually actuated him the
predominance for a moment; and, turning round, with a look both
mournful and reproachful, he said,

"No, Henry, no; do not leave the poor children now. If not for my
sake, for their mother's memory, stay with them still for a while. La
Tour will also be with you and with them. But he is growing aged, his
health is feeble, his life insecure; my own life, God knows when it
may end; and while I am obliged to be absent, and before I have
determined what to do with them, I would fain have some kindred blood
near. On my return from Paris, which will not be very long, you shall
be free to do as you please, and I will promote your views to the
utmost of my power."

He spoke with a tone of command which I might have been inclined to
resist, had there not been mingled with it a certain degree of
confidence and kindness, the value of which was certainly enhanced not
a little by its rarity. I made no reply; indeed, I had not time; for,
taking it for granted that I acquiesced, he quitted me immediately.

A long conversation ensued between him and Monsieur la Tour, in which
he arranged everything regarding the maintenance of his family during
his absence, and the proper regulation of the chateau. A portion of
the rents were ordered to be paid to the pastor for the expenses of
the house; and the worthy man promised never to quit the family for
more than one day. My cousin spoke of me too, I found; and, according
to Monsieur la Tour's representation, spoke with some kindness. I am
inclined to believe, however, that the minister's representations were
the cause of his acting towards me ere he quitted the chateau, I may
say more wisely, as well as more kindly, than he had previously done.

The regulation of all expenses was confided to the clergyman; he
received and he paid for everything. But a portion, though a small
one, of the sum allowed, was ordered to be given into my hands, to be
employed for my own purposes, and for any military repairs or
arrangements that I might think required in the castle. Two servants,
at my choice, were to be considered as my own especial attendants; and
the baron himself announced to the retainer's assembled in the public
hall, that, in case of peril or attack, from the tide of war rolling
in that direction, the supreme command of all things was to rest with
me during his absence.

No sooner had these arrangements been made, than he himself set out
again for Paris, promising to return at the end of six months; and
leaving an old and faithful attendant of his dead wife as in some sort
the governess of his daughter.

The affection which the baroness had always entertained towards me,
had communicated itself to the good old servant I have mentioned,
Donine le Mery; and she declared, after the baron was gone, that the
greatest consolations she could receive after the death of her
mistress were, first, the promise of her lord that she should remain
ever with Mademoiselle Louise, and next to see me have the command of
the castle. Whatever she sought, whatever she wished for, the good
soubrette came to me to seek it; and if Louise herself had been
inclined to cling to me with all a sister's affection before her
mother's death, she was now ten times more disposed to do so, when she
had no other companion to whom she could pour forth undisguised all
her feelings and all her thoughts. Her brothers, younger than herself
in age, were still younger in mind; and her good attendant, though the
best of all creatures, was too far below her in education to permit of
any interchange of thought between them.

To me, therefore, the poor girl turned with the full confidence of
childhood and unbounded affection. I was the companion of her walks,
and of her rides, and of her solitary hours. I remembered her as an
infant; I had seen her grow up day by day under my eyes; time seemed
to make no difference; she was still a mere child in my sight. I
looked upon her as a dear but far younger sister; and I never found
that either I myself or any one else could dream there was a
possibility that such a change could take place in her feelings or in
mine which could be dangerous to the one or to the other.

The end of the six months came, but the baron returned not, and he did
not even hint in his letters that such an event was likely to take
place. He said that he had been delayed by various circumstances; that
the arrangements he had made in regard to the chateau must continue in
force till his coming; but he mentioned no period of return, and, in
truth, was once more entangled in the meshes of that net, from which
he had only been withdrawn for a time by the couriers which had
summoned him to his wife's deathbed.

In the mean time the days passed away happily enough. I had gained
importance in the eyes of all around me; deference and attention were
paid to me by the attendants; and, had I not been disturbed by the
frequent thought that the best season of my life was passing away;
that the days of youth were flying by in inactivity, when I felt
myself formed for action, I could have been well contented there, in
the society of that sweet girl to whom I was all in all; and of two
generous and high-spirited boys, who loved me with all the strength
and energy of youthful affection.

A year passed, and the baron came not. Louise was now growing up
towards womanhood; the warm blush mantled more deeply on her cheek;
her eye gained a brighter lustre; her lip acquired a warmer red; her
mind, too, expanded every hour, as if to keep pace with that fair
form, which was each day acquiring additional beauty.

As she wandered along beside me, her conversation was more
imaginative, more full of deep thought; and we talked over a
thousand things in which fancy and feeling linked our thoughts
together, so as to remain inseparable for ever. There was thus formed
for me a store of ideas, in regard to which I have since felt--alas!
how painfully--that they could never be mentioned, that they could
never be alluded to in the slightest manner, without calling up in my
bosom the thought of her, of her words, of her looks, of scenes long
past, and of departed happiness. Nor, indeed, could it be otherwise
with her. We created, in fact, for ourselves, a world of magic
aspirations; a straight and even pathway, on which fancy, guided by
memory, ran back like lightning from the present to the past.

We talked of her mother and of the days gone by, and we recalled all
her sweetness, and her beauty, and her tenderness towards us both; and
more than once we mingled our tears together, when we recollected all
that she had done to win and merit love, and that the eternal barrier
had fallen between us and her, shutting us out from all communication
with the loved and the departed. We talked of the future and of the
world--the wide, unknown world open before us both. She spoke of it
herself with awe and shuddering, as if she foresaw and would have
shrunk from the griefs, and cares, and anxieties before her. Often,
also, we would have recourse to dreams to chase away apprehensions;
she would inquire of me what the great capital was like; and when she
found I could in no degree satisfy her, she would apply to fancy, and
build up an enchanted city from the gay things of her own imagination.

The bright and glorious universe, too, afforded to both of us a
thousand schemes for speculation; other lands would rise up before the
mind's eye, clothed with brightness not their own; and when I spoke of
Italy or Spain, the vast and beautiful creations of art, a climate of
sunshine, a soil of fertility, and a courteous and friendly people,
such as I had read in the vague or overcharged accounts of travellers,
her countenance would glow brightly, her young eye sparkle, and she
would wish to be a journeyer through such scenes with people who could
love them or admire them like herself.

Frequently, in our ramblings, her brothers would accompany us, and
during a great part of the morning I was constantly with them, acting
in some degree the part of their preceptor, or taking a share in those
instructions which were communicated to them by masters from the
capital of Guienne. They loved me well, too; and, on looking back to
that time, I can recollect no one feeling in my own bosom--I cannot
believe that there was any one in the bosoms of those who surrounded
me--the natural tendency of which was calculated to give a moment's
pain to any one of the small but united party which then tenanted the
chateau of Blancford.

Such was the state of all things till Louise reached the age of
fifteen; and I feel confident that I could have gone on with the same
feelings towards her perfectly unchanged, and looking upon her merely
as a sister, had not other events intervened which soon separated us
from each other.

At this point may be said to end the period of my early life,
which--like an old picture, painted at first in vivid colours, soon
loses the brightness of its hues, becomes mellower but less distinct
to the eye, then grows gray and dim, and then is almost obscured
altogether--has now greatly faded away from memory, though the
impressions were then as bright and vivid as perhaps any that I have
received since.

Two days before the period at which Louise concluded her fifteenth
year, messengers from her father, whom they left at no greater
distance than Barbesieux, announced his sudden return. His letter
contained merely intelligence of the fact, that he would be at the
chateau of Blancford at supper-time on the ensuing day. I shall not
easily forget the anxiety with which we all waited his appearance, the
messenger having informed us of more than the letter that he bore,
namely, that the baron had wedded another bride, whom he was now
bringing home from the capital, where she had remained, while the wife
of another, somewhat too long for her own honour, for the baron's
reputation, and for the peace of a husband whom she speedily ceased to
mourn.

Hitherto I have given but a general view of all that passed during my
early years, but I must now give a more minute account of the event
that followed; for, from the day in which my cousin's new bride set
her foot within those doors, my fate underwent a greater change than
any to which it had yet been subject.




CHAPTER II.


It may well be believed that we counted the minutes as the evening of
the second day went by. Every one there present felt that there was a
book to be opened before them that night, on the pages of which the
future destiny of all was more or less distinctly written. The two
boys felt it much, but they felt it with some sort of eagerness, and
some anticipations of pleasure. Old Monsieur la Tour looked grave and
thoughtful, as well he might; for he was the only one there present
who was fully aware of the character and previous history of the
person about to be added to the domestic circle at Blancford. I had
heard something, indeed, but not all; but, to counterbalance any
painful reflections, I had the prospect before me of entering upon a
new and more active course of being, and fulfilling the destinies to
which the spirit within my bosom called me.

The person who felt the most on the occasion was Louise de Blancford;
and nobody could doubt that--though a portion of the happiness of
every one there present was in some way to be affected--it was her
whole fate, peace, comfort, and tranquillity which then trembled in
the balance. The boys would soon naturally seek the tented field, or
plunge into the occupations of the city or the court; but she was to
remain alone, with the happiness of every moment in the hands and at
the disposal of another.

She was at that time as beautiful as a young rose, with a countenance
upon which all the emotions of her pure heart traced themselves in an
instant as they arose in her bosom; and I could see her eye turn
towards me from time to time with an anxious and inquiring glance,
which showed me at once the feelings that were going on within, and
told me all she would have asked, although no words were spoken. I did
my best to comfort her, and to raise up hope of bright and happy
things. Perhaps I did so hypocritically; but surely it was pardonable,
when I found that cheerful moments were passing away, perhaps for
ever, to give her as many as I could till the power of so doing was
absolutely taken from me.

It was a bright and beautiful summer's evening; and going out upon the
sloping hill which was crowned by the castle, we looked in the
direction where we expected to see the cavalcade appear, and watched
anxiously for the first spear-head rising above the distant trees.

We waited long, however; the sun descended to the horizon in
splendour; the whole sky was rosy with his light; the very air itself
seemed to be filled with purple rays; and the woods, and villages, and
towers around were all steeped in the same rich and glowing hue. It
seemed to speak of hope and bright days to come; and yet, though we
were all young, and under the soft guardianship of kind inexperience,
our hearts refused to receive the colouring of the bright scene
without, and the sweetness of the evening seemed rather to make us
more melancholy than to raise our expectations.

The sun went down slowly; the distant lines of the country assumed the
most intense blue; the last rays of the setting orb poured through
hollow way in the deep masses of the forest, and caught upon a large
piece of water at the foot of the hill, rendering one part like a sea
of liquid gold, while the other remained shadowed by a wood as black
as night. The moon, too, was coming up in the western sky, together
with a single star, so pure, so soft, so full of pale light, that it
seemed like a drop fallen from the eyes of the departing sun.

Louise's hand rested sisterly upon my arm; we gazed upon the glowing
west and the deep blue lines beyond; we gazed upon the pale pure east,
with the moon and the stars; and we gazed upon the golden water, and
the shadowy wood, and the higher towers of the castle, partly lighted
up, as if on fire, with beams that we could no longer behold, and
partly buried in profound shadow. We then turned our eyes upon each
other; and oh! how I wished at that moment that it had been in my
power to command the fate of that sweet girl, and by my will alone to
ensure that she should be happy.

At that moment we heard the distant sound of a trumpet; but it was
far, far off, borne upon the wings of the soft westerly wind. Neither
banner, nor spear, nor cavalcade could be seen as far as the eye could
reach; and, after gazing for a few minutes longer, we re-entered the
castle, and waited there till we heard the sound of horses coming up
the hill.

All ran down at once from the room where we had been sitting; Louise
and the old clergyman to the great hall, I and my two young cousins to
welcome the baron at the drawbridge. He came, accompanied by a long
train of retainers, with a carriage and a horse litter containing his
new wife and her manifold attendants. The torches and lanterns showed
us a countenance much changed since we had last seen him, older in
appearance than in reality, thinner, and more harsh than ever. There
was a heavy frown, too, upon his brow, and it was evident that
something had gone wrong on the road.

To me he spoke but one word in answer to my inquiries after his
health, and the boys, who were pressing round him with the eagerness
of natural affection, he pushed roughly away, telling them that they
encumbered him. He then approached the side of the carriage and handed
out the lady, who, being of course masked for the journey, did not
suffer her face to appear. He led her at once into the hall, where
Louise and the old clergyman had remained; and his daughter, who was
the only person that seemed to shrink back from himself and his new
wife, was the only one to whom he spoke kindly and tenderly.

There, sheltered from the wind, and with plenty of light around, the
lady took of her velvet mask; and oh, how every idea which I had
previously formed of what her person was likely to present, vanished
in a single instant! As she lifted that mask from her face, the
imagination of memory conjured up in a moment the beautiful form of
the first wife, and set it beside the new one. Certainly I had
expected to find transcendent beauty in the being who had lured the
heart of the husband away from such a lovely and amiable being; and
who, after having made her miserable through life, had taken her place
when dead.

The figure of the new baroness was fine, it is true; tall, commanding,
and well-proportioned; but it wanted that soft and easy grace, that
flowing symmetry of every line which had distinguished her
predecessor; and if there was a difference and an inferiority in
figure, what was there not in countenance? She was no longer young;
the features were large and strongly marked, the eyes bright, indeed,
and full of fire, but that was the fire of a harsh and domineering
temper; and they were only softened, if at all, by a look of wanton
meaning which sometimes came across them. The lips were thin, and
generally closely shut, though the teeth were fine which they
concealed; the chin was rounded, but somewhat projecting; the cheek
bones were high, and the skin, though not brown, was coarse. There was
a good deal of colour in the face; so much, indeed, that I should have
supposed it not altogether natural, had it not been roughly scattered
over the cheek with a sort of mottled appearance, which convinced me
that art had no share in placing it there. The hair was fine and
luxuriant, although she had passed her prime, and her hand was large
and somewhat coarse, though much pains had been taken to keep it soft
and white.

She gazed at Louise from head to foot, with a look of scrutiny and
apparently some surprise.

"You told me that she was a girl, a mere child," the lady said,
addressing the baron as he introduced his daughter to her. "Why this
is a woman!"

"She was a child when I left her, madam," replied the baron, "and you
may see that she is a child in heart still by the blushes which your
words call up."

"She looks all the prettier for them," replied the baroness; "but I
must teach her not to be such a spendthrift, and to reserve them for
occasions when they will have some effect. And, pray, who is this
young gentleman!" she proceeded, turning towards me while that meaning
look came up in her eyes. "Not your eldest son, I suppose, my lord,
for he was only twelve years old when last I heard of him, and he has
not probably made such a rapid jump as the young lady. If he have, he
has gotten him goodly limbs in a short time." And she ran over me with
the same unblushing effrontery with which she had gazed upon Louise.

"This, madam," replied the baron, bitterly, "is a cousin of mine,
Henry de Cerons, son of another cousin, Henry de Cerons, who has done
me the honour of living in my house for the last twenty years."

The blood came up into my cheeks as I heard him speak. "I have been,
madam," I said, taking up the words immediately, "a poor pensioner
upon my cousin's bounty since the period that he speaks of. It was
then that the death of my noble father left me dependant, with nothing
but a sword, which he had rendered glorious, for my future fortune."

"It proved but a poor fortune to him," replied my cousin, frowning at
me; "and you have suffered it somewhat to rust in the scabbard,
methinks, Master Henry."

"At your own request for the last two years, my lord," I replied, "and
it shall do so no longer."

I was going to add more, though I saw that the baron's mood was
becoming every moment more and more fierce. But the eyes of both at
that moment fell upon Louise, and we beheld the tears running through
her long eyelashes and down her cheeks.

"Come, come, no more, no more," he said; "let us drop such subjects,
and not make the evening bitter. Madam, I will show you your
apartments. Supper, I hope, will soon be ready."

"And the baron in a better humour," said the lady, giving a sarcastic
look round as she swept up the hall after him.

We left her lord and the attendants to show her the way; and the five
who had tenanted the castle before her coming remained behind in the
hall, gazing upon each other, while memory again drew a comparison
between the present and the past, the most painful, the most bitter
that it is possible to conceive. No one spoke; the sensations in the
heart of every one were too dark and sad for us to give them
utterance; and, before a word was uttered, the baron had returned.

How the cheerful meal of supper passed over that night in the chateau
of Blancford may be easily conceived, for the same spirit which had
marked the return of the lord of that castle to his dwelling pervaded
the whole conversation. Why or how he had been induced to wed the
woman whom he had brought thither might be difficult to say; but it
was very evident that where there could never have been any esteem
there now remained no affection. We were all silent but the lord and
lady of the house, except when, from time to time, good Monsieur la
Tour endeavoured to break the restraint by a word upon some ordinary
subject, or when I replied to him, which act seemed not a little to
create the baron's surprise that I should presume to converse in his
presence.

When the meal was over, the lady declared she was fatigued, and
retired speedily to rest. Louise followed; and, as there was now no
cheerful circle gathered together in the evening to converse over the
events of the day, I was about also to retire very soon; but the baron
stopped me, saying he wished to speak to me, with a sort of dull,
leaden look about his eyes, which he put on when he wanted to assume
an air of despotic rule, and to announce his purpose in such a way as
to admit of no reply.

The clergyman also stayed; and, turning to me, the baron said, "It is
time, my fair cousin, if we may judge by the specimens which you have
given us to-night of your conversational powers, that you should find
yourself a new home."

"I am not only quite ready, my lord," I replied, "but fully determined
to do so as speedily as may be."

"It may be very speedily indeed, then," replied the baron, "for I have
already arranged the whole matter for you. You will be pleased to set
out to-morrow morning for the town of Pau in Bearn; and I will furnish
you with letters to the Protestant clergyman of that place, who will
put you in the proper way so to complete your education in the college
as to become, I trust, a worthy member of our church. Nay, hear me,
hear me to the end. Your maintenance, and the expenses of your studies
till the period of your taking orders, will be borne by myself,
provided your conduct is such as to justify my kindness. And, having
done this, I think I have fulfilled to the utmost the promises which I
was induced to make to your late father."

"Your lordship has informed me before now," I replied, "That it was my
father's wish that I should be a soldier, and pursue the profession
which all my race have followed. You informed me once also that you
had promised him it should be so, and that you would place me in that
course where he had won glory."

"Of course, sir," replied the baron, frowning fiercely upon me, "all
such promises were conditional, as were also his requests. He left
your fate to my discretion, and did not dictate to me how I was to
deal with the boy whom I brought up from charity."

The words were galling enough, but I struggled hard to keep down the
demon of pride--a demon which had endured enough, surely, to quell him
in my heart.

I therefore replied at once, "My father's wishes, my lord, I am
perfectly aware, can be no law to you. To me, however, they would be a
law, even did not my own inclinations second them. It is my
determination, therefore--"

"Hush, hush!" said the good clergyman; "hush, my dear Henry. Do not
speak of your determination; but leave it to your cousin to take into
consideration the motives that you have mentioned."

"Leave him to his own obstinate folly, La Tour," replied my cousin,
turning from me. "I have told him all that I will do. I have made him
what may well be considered a noble offer. I give him till to-morrow
to think of it; and, if he do not accept it, then I will drive him
from my door like an ungrateful hound, and send him forth a beggar to
the fate he deserves."

Thus saying, he turned and abruptly quitted the hall; while I
remained, as may well be conceived, fully determined never to eat
bread again at the expense of such a man. I remained thoughtful and
silent for a moment, while La Tour gazed with interest and anxiety in
my face, and at last asked me, "What do you intend to do, Henry?"

"To keep my resolution, excellent friend," I replied. "You cannot
suppose that such words as I have heard can at all shake my purpose."

"But consider, my dear boy," replied the clergyman, "you are utterly
without means of support. I fear, Henry, that you do not know how
little is to be gained in the barren field of war; and, at all events,
you will be obliged at first to support yourself till you can receive
pay."

"It matters not, my good friend," I replied; "I should lose my own
esteem for ever--my heart would have no strength to struggle with the
world, if I let this man set his foot upon it again."

The clergyman said nothing more to change my purpose, for he saw that
it was unchangeable; but he answered, "At all events, then, Henry,
take what little gold I have. I need it not, my boy; and I always have
the means of support. You will not mind taking it from me."

"I will not take it all," I replied, kissing his hand; "but, to show
you how willingly I can bend my pride to depend upon one that loves
me, I will take twenty gold crowns from you, and that shall be the
fortune with which I go forth into the world. I have, indeed, nearly
treble that sum in my own chamber; but that belongs to a man from whom
I will take nothing, so that you shall give it to him to-morrow after
I am gone."

"Do you go early, then?" demanded the clergyman, looking anxiously
upon me.

"As early as possible," I replied; and he then told me that he would
bring the money to my little room.

Thither I now turned my steps, and the good clergyman soon followed.
He gave me the sum I had agreed to take from his little store, and
pressed upon me more, which I would not accept. He sought also to
persuade me that I had every right to keep the money which the baron
had allowed me; but on that score my mind was made up, and I would
hear no arguments.

A long conversation then ensued, and La Tour added many wise counsels
and noble precepts to many which had gone before. I treasured them in
my mind; and, if I have not always followed them exactly in the strife
of passion and the assault of temptation, at all events, everything
that has been good in my conduct or estimable in my character, I owe,
first, to the sweet influence of her who so tenderly cultivated my
youth, and, next, to the counsels and exhortations of that good man.

It was nearly one o'clock in the morning when he left me, and then I
sat down to consider what should be my next step.

What were the baron's habits now, I knew not; but him I was resolved
to see no more. All the rest of the family, however, were generally up
not long after daybreak; and, if I remained, I knew that there must be
a bitter parting both with Louise and with the boys; most likely, an
angry parting also with the baron; and, perhaps, the pain of seeing
the expression of his childrens' love for me, call down his wrath upon
them. I thought of it all, and determined to suffer alone, as far as
might be.

I made all my preparations in haste; took with me a few jewels and
trinkets, which I inherited from my mother, and those the baroness had
given me; packed up the necessary clothes which I intended to carry
away; destroyed many a memorial of the place and its inhabitants,
which I did not choose to have exposed to the harsh eyes of the baron,
or the impure ones of his new wife; and, only preserving some little
things in the handwriting of poor Louise, I prepared to take my
departure for ever from the dwelling which I had so long inhabited.

As I stood upon the threshold, intending to waken one of the grooms,
whom I had chosen, at the time the baron had last visited the castle,
to attend upon me, having occasion for some one to carry my valise to
the next cabaret, a thousand recollections of the place, sweet, and
happy, and affectionate, crowded upon my heart; a thousand gloomy
images of the future rose up before my eyes; Hope hung down her torch,
as if its light had been extinguished; and memory strove to bind me to
that past from which I was tearing myself away.

I looked round the little room which I had inhabited, and every object
that my eye fell upon acquired an interest that it had never acquired
before. The dreams of childhood, the thoughts of other years, the
figures of some long gone, came back in crowds, and tenanted the
apartment; and my heart would have broken if I had not wept.

My tears were quickly dried, however; and I went to wake the boy, and
tell him of my purpose. I found him in so sound a sleep that I could
hardly wake him; and, after he was roused, he gazed round him stupidly
for a moment, as if he did not well comprehend what I meant. The next
instant, however, he sprang up with alacrity and cast on his clothes.
We went together to bring the valise from my room, and then waiting
till we heard the guard (for we were still in a state of war) going
round to the front gate, we descended quietly by the little staircase,
and passed through the court.

As all the military arrangements in the castle had been, for the last
two years, in my hands alone, the gates were thrown open at my first
word. The men looked surprised, it is true: but they did not presume
to ask any questions, or to make any observations, at least in my
hearing; and, issuing out of the chateau about two in the morning, I
stood upon Blancford Lea, prepared to seek my future fortunes with my
own hand.

There were still some sad feelings in my heart which would not be
driven forth; but, nevertheless, I struggled hard against them, and
the natural hopefulness of youth was beginning to do its part, so far,
at least, that I could find some sources of consolation in the aspect
of the world around me. The moon was just going down, appearing large
and red through a light haze upon the edge of the horizon. The stars
overhead were light, but they were far, far distant, seeming to my
fancy like some of the bright imaginations of early youth, brilliant,
but unattainable. I looked to the eastern sky, however; and, there
upon the very edge of the horizon, was a faint glimmering light, the
first announcement of the distant dawning. There seemed to me to be
hope and promise in that very sight.

"I may be covered with darkness and night," I said to myself, "but the
day will certainly come at length: and, whether it be fair or bad, it
too will pass away."

It is the nature of man to trust in auguries; they have been found in
the flight of birds or in the entrails of the sacrifice. Let me find
promises or threatenings in the various aspects of nature, where the
hand of the Almighty has marked his will; and, in the course of one
train of events, has often pointed out what must be the course of
another.

As I walked along, I did what few young men on their outset in life
think fit to do. I considered deliberately and carefully what was to
be the general tone of my demeanour, what the general plan of my
conduct in the path that lay before me. I considered how I stood
towards the world that I was about to enter; looked at the vulnerable
points in my nature; considered where I was most likely to be
attacked, and how I might best defend myself. I had arrived at an age
when the human intellect is in full strength; I had much acquaintance
with books, and my mind, therefore, was not enfeebled for want of
exercise. I had every power of looking into my own heart, guiding,
guarding, and directing myself, which any other man at the same age
possesses. But where I was deficient was in knowledge of the world and
of my fellow-men; and here I felt that I was utterly ignorant and
without experience.

I had, indeed, had some little dealings with mankind during the last
two or three years; but that had only served to confirm a fact which
books before had taught, me--that, in general, man looks upon himself
but as a human shark, whose great object it must ever be to seize upon
and devour the unwary.

In order, then, at once to conceal and defend my weak point till it
could be remedied by knowledge and observation, was one part of my
determination. But there were other things to be considered; and I
made up my mind as to the general conduct I was to pursue before I
reached the first village inn. To be honest and true, daring and firm,
was, of course, the foundation of all; but, in order to prevent those
with whom I was likely to have dealings from perceiving my ignorance
of the world, I made up my mind to put a guard upon my lips; to affect
a light and jesting tone, in order to conceal deeper feelings; to
assume that perfect indifference to all things which I had already
learned was a natural consequence of that experience which I did not
possess; and, repressing every expression either of surprise,
pleasure, or grief, to be in some degree a stoic externally, and never
to lay open my heart to any persons till I had tried them long and
deeply.

To execute such a resolution may appear more difficult than to form
it; but there were many things which rendered the enterprise more easy
to me than it would have proved to other men. My natural character was
gay and light, not easily repressed, with a large share of hope, and a
fearlessness of consequences which gave me a great command over my own
actions and over those of others. The pitiful neglect and want of
respect with which my cousin's servants had treated me, as soon as
another heir had appeared in his house, had taught me to assume a tone
of indifferent contempt, when the occasion served, which now stood me
in great stead; and the very feelings of grief and indignation which
were at my heart, by giving me matter to dwell upon in my own bosom,
rendered me more careless of all that passed without.

Such, then, were my resolutions, and my means of accomplishing them,
as far as the government of myself was concerned: but there were many
other things, of course, to be thought of; with whom I was to take
service; how I was to shape my course to join the army; how I was to
obtain the necessary arms and equipments; for, following the
determination I had before made, not to take anything from the castle
but that which absolutely belonged to myself, I had left behind both
the horses which had been given to me for my use, and the arms in
which I had exercised myself since I was a boy, with the exception of
the sword and dagger that I usually wore, and a rich knife, with a
hilt and a sheath of gold, inlaid with jewels, which my father had
brought from the East when warring against the Turks in former days.

On the first point, how I was to join the army, many difficulties
existed. The short peace which had been granted to the Protestants had
now been some months at an end, and the third war of religion had
already began. The principal forces of the Huguenots were assembled in
the neighbourhood of La Rochelle, and a considerable distance remained
to be traversed before I could hope to fall in with the army.

While I was considering all these things, the eastern sky became
somewhat brighter, and the faint pink of the morning air afforded
sufficient light to see all the objects distinctly. I had taken my way
towards Bordeaux, as the first great town where I could hope to obtain
any information, and had walked on rapidly, while the boy, carrying on
his shoulder the valise with which I had charged him, trudged on in
perfect silence by my side, without making the slightest inquiry as to
the end or object of my journey, or where he himself was going.

I had chosen him, indeed, from the rest of the servants, when I was
permitted to select two of them to attend upon me, principally because
he had always shown both respect and attachment towards me, but
scarcely less because there was a degree of similarity between his
fate and my own; his father having been killed at the battle of St.
Denis, and he left an orphan to the care of strangers. He was now a
stout, active youth of about nineteen, somewhat variable it his mood,
occasionally loquacious, but more frequently quite the reverse;
replying with a sharp, quick word, observing keenly all that passed,
and having much shrewd sense under a somewhat dull and boorish
exterior. On the present occasion, however, his taciturnity had been
even more marked than usual. When I had roused him, at first he had
looked at me with some wonder, but he had not said a word since, doing
exactly as I bade him in profound silence.

At the distance of about two miles from the chateau of Blancford, we
reached the first village, which boasted such a thing as an auberge;
and there I had proposed to make the lad put down the valise, and,
getting some one else to carry it forward with me, to give him some
small pieces of money as a parting gift, and send him back. On
entering the village, however, we found that no one was up; and,
though there was written over the door of the inn, "Were lodge
travellers on foot. A dinner six sous. A bed eight sous. Come in and
try!" the closed door belied the hospitable invitation, and I was
somewhat puzzled how to proceed.

"I suppose I must wait till they get up, Andriot," I said. "So you can
put down the valise and return to the castle. I shall find somebody up
presently to carry it on to Bordeaux for me."

"I can carry it on, sir," he said; "they'll be an hour before they're
up, and I don't see why you should get an inn-boy while you've your
own man."

"Alas! my good Andriot," I said, "you can be my own man no longer. I
am too poor a gentleman to afford attendance upon me, and you had
better go back at once, lest any review of the servants should be made
at the chateau, and the baron should be angry at your absence."

"The baron may be angry once," said the lad, "but he'll not be angry
any more than once with me, at least; for we all saw and heard enough
last night to make me very glad when I found you were going. No, no,
sir, I have been your servant for two years, and not the baron's, and
the chateau of Blancford is no more a home for me if you are not
there."

"But think a while, my good Andriot," I replied; "it is utterly
impossible for me either to pay you any wages or to support you. I go
forth with scarcely the means of supporting myself till I reach the
army. I seek fortune there as a common soldier, and may not even
obtain, for aught I know, the means of gaining bread for myself with
my own sword. Me, therefore, you cannot accompany; and you must
remember how many chances there are in these troublous times against
your obtaining any situation at all comparable to that which you may
still hold in the chateau of Blancford."

"I have thought of all that you say, sir," he replied, "as we came
along; for it is always right to think well what one is about, after
one has taken a resolution. I took mine an hour or two ago. When you
first roused me I was half asleep, and didn't understand what you
meant. But then again, as soon as both my eyes were open, I understood
the whole, for I had thought to myself, when I went to bed, that, if
what the baroness' groom had said about the baron and you was true,
you would not stay in the castle much after daylight; so I made up my
mind in a moment, as soon as I found that you were going. As to wages,
I owe you three weeks' service, for you paid me a month in advance
last Monday; then, as for food, I have taken care to have all the
money that you ever gave me in my pocket to the last sous; then,
besides that, I have got three crowns of the sun, and two livres
Tournois, which were brought me by Sampson the squire from my poor
father when he was killed at St. Denis. So you see, sir, I have plenty
to keep me for a year; and as for the rest, if you are going to seek
your fortune, I do not see why I should not go and seek mine with
you."

"Well, then, Andriot," I replied, with a smile which I could not
refrain at his using arguments for following me which were so like the
reasons that existed in my own bosom for my own conduct, "if such be
your resolution, take up the valise and let us go on. What you do is
your voluntary act, and, at any time that you think fit to leave me,
you shall do so; so pray Heaven send you soon a wealthier master, and
one that can reward you for your fidelity."

"I hope to Heaven it may be so, sir," replied the youth; "and I don't
suppose you'll be long before you have some piece of good luck.
Fortune gets tired of troubling a man that cares little about her; and
I have heard old Jansen, the Jew merchant, say that luck changes at
five-and-twenty, at fifty, and at seventy-five, if a man but lives so
long."

Thus saying, he once more lifted the valise; and I then perceived, for
the first time, that he had strapped on it a little packet of his own
goods and chattels, which showed that his resolution had, as he said,
been taken before he quitted the chateau.

On approaching the gates of Bordeaux, it became necessary to determine
to what inn we should go. My meager finances did not permit of my
lodging for even a day at any of the expensive auberges of the Gascon
capitol; and I bethought me that Andriot, born and brought up in that
neighbourhood, was much more likely to be acquainted with the inferior
inns than myself. I therefore consulted him upon the subject, and he
replied at once,

"Oh! sir, go to the little inn kept by Jacques de Cannes, called the
Soleil Levant, at the end of the Rue de Minimes. It is a poor place,
but you will have plenty of Protestant news there, and you will get a
good dinner for a small sum. In the evening, when you have settled
all, we can go on to Carbon Blanc, or, perhaps, to Cubzac."

"We could not have a more auspicious name," I replied, "than the
rising sun, Andriot; and see where the sun is indeed rising, and with
as bright an aspect as one could desire."

Andriot instantly pulled off his cap towards the east with as much
apparent reverence as ever did Persian to the rising orb of day. "Send
us good luck, monseigneur," he said, addressing the sun; and then,
with a gay laugh, full of careless hope and light-hearted
cheerfulness, he followed my steps, and in a quarter of an hour we
were in the town of Bordeaux.

The doors of the Soleil Levant were by this time wide open, and it was
evident, by the joyous welcome given to Andriot, that it was not the
first time that he had set his foot within those walls. I had just
time to tell him that it might be prudent, for the time being, not to
mention my name, when we were surrounded by half a dozen of his old
friends and companions, who led us both into the little hall, where
breakfast was in active preparation for those guests who had passed
the night at the house. Only one of these, however, had as yet
appeared, and he was seated at that one of the two tables the room
contained which was nearest to the window that looked into the street.
He was so placed, however, in the corner of the hall, that he could
see the passengers who went by without being remarked himself; and
though I had passed the windows but a moment before, I had not
perceived that there was anybody in the room.

According to the hint that I had given to Andriot, he merely informed
Jacques de Cannes that I was a gentleman adventurer seeking my fortune
as a soldier, with whom he had taken service, being sick of his late
employ in the chateau de Blancford. This was said after I had taken a
step or two forward towards the table, and just loud enough for me to
hear. The worthy aubergiste answered in the same tone, demanding, with
an expressive nod, "He is one of our people, of course?"

"I should not be with him," replied the lad, "if he were not." And the
aubergiste, rejoining in a somewhat lower tone, "Perhaps I can tell
him where he is likely to find service by-and-by," left us to seek the
basin of soup, which, with half a loaf and a small bottle of very good
wine, was our allotted breakfast.

Seating myself at the same table, while Andriot took his place a
little farther down, I waited patiently for the arrival of my mess,
giving from time to time a glance towards the previous occupant of the
room, who was busily engaged in emptying the contents of his own bowl,
and, apparently, taking very little notice of what was passing around
him. As far as I could see, he was a good-looking man, somewhat below
forty years of age, broad and powerfully made, with hair not red, but
of a light glossy brown, curling round his brow with flowing and
graceful waves. The mustache which he wore upon his upper lip was very
thick and long, but lighter even in colour than his hair. The features
were good, without being strikingly handsome; but when he opened his
mouth, the expression of his whole face was injured by the want of
three of his front teeth. There was a scar or two on other parts of
his countenance, which bespoke the soldier; and one of his hands,
which rested somewhat listlessly on the table while he ate his soup
with the other, was disfigured by a large round scar on the back, and
seemed to have been penetrated either by a spear or a ball. He ate his
bread with his soup, but drank no wine till he had done; he then,
however, nearly filled his cup, and, after having drank it, looked up,
saying, with a slight foreign accent, "Good wine in these parts. Are
you of this country, young gentleman?"

"No," I replied (for I was born on the banks of the Loire); and,
having satisfied myself by speaking the simple truth in one
monosyllable, I took no farther notice till he said. "And yet yours is
a Gascon accent, it seems to me."

"And yours a Scotch one," I replied.

"Well hit, my young falcon," replied the stranger, in a light tone;
"you follow the game true."

"As every one should do," I replied, not a little doubtful of the
character of my worthy companion, and answering no more than was
absolutely necessary. The stranger, however, was not so easily to be
frustrated, and he returned to the charge about my Gascon accent.

"Some birds," he said, "have a rare skill in deceiving their pursuers.
I should not marvel still if Guienne had been your birthplace."

"You could not wish me a better," I answered.

"No, nor a shrewder wit, you think," he said: "however, I give you
good-morning."

And, taking up his hat, which lay beside him, he finished his small
bottle of wine and moved towards the door.

At that moment Jacques de Cannes was coming in with a bowl of soup for
Andriot, and the stranger stopped him for a minute or two, saying
something that we did not hear. The aubergiste replied in the same low
voice, and the stranger, turning away, added aloud, "Not till I have
seen him again, Maître Jacques."

After putting down the pottage for Andriot, the good aubergiste came
up to me, and, bending down his head, he said, "You are seeking
service in arms, I think, seigneur; you could not trust to any one
better than that gentleman who has just gone out. He is an old soldier
and a good one, and as stanch a Protestant as ever lived. But he will
be back here to dinner, and, if you like to talk to him about your
views, he will most likely get you service."

My heart beat at the offer, I must confess; but yet, pursuing my
cautious determinations, I was resolved neither to trust aubergiste
nor stranger too far; and, although I awaited with some impatience for
the return of the latter, I schooled myself during the whole time of
his absence, lest, by too great heat, I should show my own ignorance
and inexperience, and fall into some snare.

About twenty minutes before the hour appointed for dinner, the
stranger again entered the hall, as I was holding one more
consultation with Andriot upon what was the next step to be taken.
Andriot had been greatly smitten with the stranger's appearance, and
he now assured me, with so many asseverations, that good Jacques de
Cannes was one of the most excellent and serviceable men in France,
that it was scarcely possible to doubt that he was well informed of
the fact. Indeed, he added, a moment before the stranger made his
appearance, that the worthy aubergiste stood in the near connexion
with himself of a second cousin. Why he had not told me this at first
I do not know; but it certainly did not in any degree diminish my
confidence in the good landlord, to hear that he was related to one
who had served me well and faithfully for two years.

"Then I may take his word fully as to the stranger's character,
Andriot?" I said; "for I'm sure your cousin would tell me no
falsehood."

The youth was replying eagerly, when the stranger, as I have said,
entered, and, taking off his hat, approached the place where I stood.
I had now a better view of him than before, and saw that he was as
powerful in body as I had been led to think was the case by the mere
sight of his head and shoulders. He was graceful, too, and had the air
of a gentleman, though his clothes were somewhat coarse, and displayed
none of the ordinary colours affected by that rank. The scabbard of
his sword, however, was of velvet, and the weapon was thrown so much
back across his loins, that it was impossible for him to see the hilt.
This was almost a certain sign, at that time, in France, of one who
prided himself upon his birth, though the custom has now greatly
changed, and we wear our swords almost straight upon the thigh.

"I am glad to find you here, young gentleman," he said; "and, if I may
propose such a thing, we will ask Maître Jacques to give us our dinner
in some little room apart, that we may talk over matters which may
interest you to hear."

I thought of my small store of money, and of the additional expense
which I might be led into; but it seemed that this was a lucky chance
which had befallen me, and I determined not to throw it away. I
accordingly assented, and we mounted into a chamber on the second
floor, where a dinner, which, though certainly not equal to those of
the chateau, was by no means bad, was soon set before us, and Maître
Jacques retired to serve his ordinary guests below.

"Well, sir," said the stranger, as soon as we had helped ourselves and
began, "I understand your whole situation as well as if I had heard
it."

"Which you probably have," I replied, in the dry tone that I had
determined to maintain.

"No, upon my honour," replied the other. "I'll tell you how it all
comes about, and you shall say whether I am right or wrong. First,
then, and foremost, I see a gentleman of good manners and deportment,
followed by a servant carrying a valise, very much better dressed than
myself, come into an inn for travellers on foot. I hear he has no
horses with him, and he sits down to eat his soup and drink his wine,
for which he pays three sous altogether, with a lace upon his
pourpoint which cost at the very lowest twenty sous in all. From all
this, one gathers that on some account or another--whether it be a
duel, or whether it be any other cause--this gentleman does not wish
the path he has chosen to be tracked, and perhaps is in some need, by
accidental circumstances, of money or employment. The landlord of the
inn tells me that he is seeking military service, and is on his way,
even now, to join Condé, or the admiral, or Andelot. I therefore
conclude that he is willing to serve against these butchers who have
been massacring the poor Protestants throughout France. There is
nothing very miraculous in all this. Am I not right?"

"In general you are," I replied; "but, let me ask, how is this to
affect my acquaintance with you?"

"Why, I will tell you in a moment," replied the stranger, in the same
frank tone. "I happen at this moment to be engaged in the same cause,
among the soldiers of which you are seeking service. I know that every
man in the monarchy is wanted; and I wish both to give you such
information as may enable you to join the army with all speed, and
urge you to do so without a moment's delay."

"I propose hastening towards Rochelle as fast as possible," I replied.

"Rochelle!" he exclaimed, with a laugh; "Why, my good young friend,
you must have been living in some hermitage, where the news of what is
passing in the world penetrates but rarely. The Protestants are no
longer at Rochelle. Condé and the admiral have advanced, the Lord
knows how far, up the Loire, and Andelot himself has been at blows
with Martigue far beyond Saumur."

My countenance fell as he spoke; for, if my finances had been barely
sufficient to carry me scantily to Rochelle, the far greater journey
that lay between me and the Protestant army rendered it almost
impossible for me to accomplish the undertaking of joining it, except,
indeed, as a mere beggar.

The stranger saw the effect that his words had produced, and demanded,
with a smile, "Why has your brow grown clouded, young gentleman? What
is it that makes you so suddenly gloomy?"

"The army," I replied, conquering all feelings of pride, "is much
farther than I expected, and my worldly wealth is but small."

The stranger looked at me fixedly for a moment, and then said, "You
have served before, have you not? You seem of an age to have seen many
a stout conflict."

I answered in the negative, however, evidently to his surprise; and he
mused for a minute or two without speaking. It appeared to me that my
new acquaintance was considering more what should be his own conduct
than what he should recommend for mine. "Have you not wherewithal to
take you to the army?" he said at length.

"Doubtless I have," I replied, "but not more; and, if I spend what I
have as I go, how am I to get a horse and arms when I arrive?"

"Oh, there is many a man in your case," replied the stranger. "You
must not be nice when you get there; but you will find many a
jockey--if there has been much fighting going on, and our party has
had the advantage--who will be willing enough to supply you with a
horse on the chance of your paying him a good sum for it within a
certain time. It is a thing done every day. These jockeys buy horses
that are taken from the enemy for an old song or a mess of pottage,
and then sell them again, if they can find means, to those who will
pay down. But, if they cannot find such pleasant customers, they
dispose of them to any soldier of fortune who is likely to pay them
well at an after period. As to arms, however, that is a more difficult
matter; and I know not very well what to advise you to do. I see there
is some story about you, if one did but know it; for your dress is not
that of a man who cannot afford to buy himself a steel cap and a
cuirass. Have you nothing that you can sell?" he added: "That Turkish
dagger in your belt; if that be gold, it will furnish you well with
what you want, and you must make your own right hand do the rest."

"I should not like to sell it," I replied, looking down at the dagger;
"this knife is one that my father brought from the East, and was taken
from a Turk killed by his own hand in battle. I should not like to
sell it if I could avoid it."

"I fear, then," replied the stranger, "if you have nothing else to
dispose of, you must even take to the arquebuse, buy no horse, and
serve in the infantry. You will most likely find many a leader who
will be glad to give you arms for your services; though I cannot think
that a man of your figure was made for a _pedescal_. I should think
that your father would rather see you part with the dagger than so
lower yourself."

"My father is dead," I replied; "but, were he living, I think that
what you say is true, and therefore I will part with it; but I would
fain place it in such hands that I may redeem it again, in case of
ever being able to do so."

"There are Jews in the world," the stranger exclaimed, with a laugh;
"there are Jews in the world. Thank Heaven for all things--there are
Jews in the world. They will take it for six months, and lend you as
much money thereon as will serve your purpose. Before that period is
over, it is to be hoped that you will have clipped some of these
gilded troops of the enemy of quite a sufficient portion of their
golden fleece to recover your weapon. After dinner we will go and see
what is the value of the knife. It is a pretty toy, and doubtless of
good steel; for these Turks declare, and I believe it true, that the
waters of Damascus temper iron far better than those either of Toledo
or Milan."

It was joyful news for me to hear that I might thus obtain that which
I most wanted, without absolutely parting with a thing which I prized,
not from its intrinsic value, but from the memories associated with
it, and because I had some recollection of being told, in my earliest
youth, never to give it away. I thanked my new companion, therefore,
warmly and sincerely for the advice he had given.

"We may have more to say to each other hereafter," he answered,
smiling. "I am not, perhaps, any more than yourself, quite what I
seem; and the truth is, I am here recruiting men for a company of
men-at-arms. I must not venture, indeed, to place any one therein who
is not a tried and well-known man; otherwise, to say the truth, from
your height, and look, and manner, I should not have scrupled to
engage with you at once. We may meet again, however, as I have said,
and then the first vacancy you may join us, if you have proved your
manhood well upon the enemy. I am glad to find you come of a fighting
race, however: that is a great thing in a man's favour; for courage
runs in the blood as well as cowardice."

"If it be an inheritance," I replied, "I have every right to it; and
at present it is my only one."

"I cannot say that originally I was much better provided myself,"
replied the stranger. "Good blood, strong limbs, and a heart without
fear, however, have increased my inheritance; and I look upon the
beginning of this war as just a call to the sheep-shearing. I take it
as a matter of course, when I talk of your entering our band, that
your blood is noble, one way or another."

"It is as good as your own," I replied.

"Indeed!" he said, with a somewhat mocking smile. "Then it is of a
somewhat extraordinary quality; for the man who can boast descent from
a long race of kings cannot go beyond mine."

"Perhaps you mean if traced back to Adam," I replied, not quite liking
his tone.

"No, young gentleman," he answered, very gravely; "I mean, if traced
back for twenty generations. But come, let us go seek this Jew, and
see what he says the knife is worth."

Thus saying, he rose; and, following him through manifold turnings and
windings in the fine old city of Bordeaux, I entered the little alley
that lies just under the Cathedral garden.

"Here lives a Jew," continued my companion, "With whom I have had some
dealings. The nearer the church the farther from God, they say: so
this misbegotten infidel plants himself close against the chief
church."

A few steps farther brought us to a small dark doorway, which
certainly gave no promise of wealth or traffic; and, feeling his way
up the stairs with his hands, my guide led me on to the second floor,
where he knocked hard with his clinched fist against a door.

It was not opened at once to his summons: but a part of one of the
panels, about two spans square, was drawn back, admitting a little
light to the landing-place on which we stood, and through it a dark
countenance with a long beard examined us carefully.

"Ah, it is you, is it, my good seigneur!" cried the Jew, after having
more than once keenly looked on my companion's face. "I will open the
door directly, and let you in."

And, almost as he spoke, bolts and bars were withdrawn, and the door
opening, gave us admission into a room which presented a very strange
scene.

There were only two persons in the chamber; the first of which was the
Jew himself, a man of about fifty years of age, dressed in the long,
flowing black robe usually worn by his people. The top of his head was
quite bald; for though he wore a small black velvet cap upon it, he
uncovered himself on the entrance of my companion, and bowed down
almost to the ground. His hair, however, and beard were jetty black,
without a single gray hair, and his complexion was of that deep
Oriental yellow-brown not uncommon to his nation.

The other person whom the room contained was a girl of about eleven or
twelve years of age, as beautiful a little creature as it is possible
to conceive; having, indeed, some resemblance to the Jew in feature,
but so softened with womanly and with childish beauty, that all
harshness was done away. She was dressed in white, but sat playing on
a pile of many-coloured shawls, winding them fancifully round her,
and, in so doing, throwing her beautiful figure into attitudes the
most graceful that it is possible to conceive.

The interior of the chamber itself, however, had a great many other
objects to attract the eye on every side. It seemed a complete
showroom of rich and valuable things. On a table near the window
appeared piles of different jewels and trinkets; swords,
silver-mounted daggers, and many an implement of modern and ancient
warfare, were scattered around on every side: in other corners lay
rich dresses and magnificent embroidery; in others, piles of carpets
and tapestries, and pieces of silk and velvet. Rich lace of gold and
silver, and many a book, perhaps invaluable in themselves, and
enriched by clasps and mountings of fine filigree-work, were cast
promiscuously together with a thousand articles of high price which I
have now forgotten.

Our business was soon explained to the Jew; and, taking the Turkish
dagger, he looked at it, saying that he would give ten crowns for it,
after he had touched a part of the haft with a touchstone.

"Ten crowns!" exclaimed my Scottish companion. "By Abraham's beard,
Solomon Ahar, thou art more a Jew than the rest of thy tribe. See you
not that the stones are real?"

"Nay?" exclaimed the Jew, with a look of surprise, "is it so?" And,
drawing near to the window, he examined it again by the faint light
that entered the chamber through the manifold tall courts and stacks
of chimneys behind.

"As true as thou art a son of Israel," replied the Scotchman. But, ere
he could say more, the Jew himself exclaimed, "Blessed be Heaven! it
is so indeed. Here are--let me see--six, seven, nine, fourteen fine
stones. Nay, then, I will give the gentleman an hundred crowns an he
choose to leave it with me, as what the people of Lombardy call a
pignus or pledge; and if he will sell it outright, I think I could
venture to go as far as an hundred and fifty or two hundred."

"Which means that it is worth three."

"On my honour, on my conscience!" cried the Jew; and was beginning to
bargain upon the worth of the thing, when I cut short the discourse by
exclaiming, "I have no intention of selling the dagger: it is but for
a temporary need that I want the money, and trust to pay it back full
soon."

"He shall give thee an hundred and fifty for it at least," exclaimed
the Scotchman. "I know how to deal with the tribe of Israel. Look ye,
Master Solomon, the haft of the dagger is worth three hundred crowns
or more. If the youth lives, returns, and claims it, you gain your
interest of fifteen hard per cent. If he gets himself killed, as is a
thousand chances to one, or dies a natural death, or never finds a
crown to spare to pay thee, all of which are very probable, the dagger
is yours at the end of six months or a year, and then you gain double
for the loan."

"I cannot give it," replied the Jew; "I cannot give it. It is too
much. It would be my ruin. How often am I a loser! What taxes have I
not to pay! No, I cannot give it, I will not give it. There is your
dagger, young gentleman."

I hesitated whether I should take the weapon; but the Scotchman gave
me a nod, saying, "Take it, take it; there are more Jews in Bordeaux
than he." And I was taking it back into my hand, when the girl
suddenly left off her sport with the shawls, and, plucking the old man
by the robe; she said. "Give it him, my father; give him the money. He
seems as if he would fain have it. He wants it, and thou dost not."

The Jew still was silent, only putting the child away with his hand,
and saying, when she urged him farther, "Silence, prattler, what is it
to thee?"

The girl, turning away from him, looked up in my face; and I laid my
hand upon her jetty locks, saying, "I thank thee, my pretty maiden. He
will not yield to thee, but thou art kind, however."

"Nay," said the Jew; "I will yield something. You shall have a hundred
and twenty-five."

"No!" said the Scot, turning towards the door; "We shall get a hundred
and fifty for it from Moses Levi."

The Jew hesitated for a moment longer; but when my companion laid his
hand upon the lock of the door as if to go out, he said, "Stay, stay:
thou shalt have it, though I vow it is the full value of the thing."

He carried an inkhorn at his button, and soon wrote down upon two
pieces of vellum a mutual acknowledgment between him and me; the one
was drawn up in his name, acknowledging the receipt of the dagger,
specifying every stone it contained, and promising its restitution on
the payment of the sum of a hundred and fifty crowns, together with
interest at the rate of fifteen per cent. The other was on my part,
acknowledging the receipt of the hundred and fifty crowns, and
promising to return it within the space of twelve months, paying an
interest of fifteen per cent.

As soon as this was concluded, the money was paid down, and the
weapon, with its glittering hilt, surrendered. I still wanted a
leathern bag to carry the money in; but in the store of the Jew all
things were to be found; and, having taken one from a cabinet in the
room, he made me pay about double the value, and thus we departed; I
far richer than I had expected to be for many a year, but feeling yet
a degree of regret and disquietude at having suffered the last gift of
my father to pass out of my own hand, which, for the time, more than
counterbalanced the pleasure of receiving the money, even though it
was to furnish me with the means of pursuing that profession for which
he himself had destined me.

When we had quitted the Jew's house, my companion laughed aloud in his
peculiar clear, merry, careless way.

"These sons of Israel," he said, "These sons of Israel, it needs a
long acquaintance to deal with them wisely: for they always take their
chance of those who traffic with them being fools, in order to cheat
them, if it be possible. The old sinner knew that those were real
jewels in the dagger from the first moment he set eyes on it; but he
hazarded offering a small sum, in case you should not know the fact. I
took my chance the other way, and swore they were real jewels, though
I knew nothing about it; being very sure that, if they were not, he
would not suffer me to deceive him. However, you are now not only
master of enough to arm you from head to heel as a proper man-at-arms,
and to buy you a horse, but to arm half a dozen others lightly to
follow you; and, if you will take my counsel, I think I can set you
off on a plan by which you may gain both fame and fortune, or lose
your life, remember!--for that must always be put at stake. Come to
the inn, however: come to the inn, and we will talk more."

I followed him through the streets meditating on what he had said, and
inclined very strongly to trust him, but feeling that want of
confidence in myself which was produced by a knowledge of my own
inexperience, and which prevented me from being at all sure whether I
was dealing with an honest man or a knave. He had certainly put me in
a way of obtaining money, which I could not have done myself, and he
had, as yet, asked me for no share in the sum thus obtained. There was
a frankness too in his whole demeanour, which produced a strong
impression in his favour; and, though I was still upon my guard, yet I
was well inclined to receive any advice that he might give me under a
favourable view.

"Come, Master Jacques," he said, speaking to the landlord, whom we met
upon the stairs of the inn, "let us have a bottle of your best wine,
for we were interrupted in our draught to go away upon business."

The landlord bowed low at orders which landlords are always willing to
hear; and the stranger led the way to the same room where we had
before sat, humming away the time till the aubergiste returned.
Ensconced at length in that room, with the bottle and glasses before
us, he began, in somewhat of a consequential tone, and with a look of
superior knowledge, to direct my proceedings.

"You have now," he said, "the opportunity of making or marring your
own fortunes. You have but very little experience, I have a great
deal; and, were I placed exactly as you are, I would do as I am going
to tell you to do. I would, in the first place, buy myself arms and
horses here in Bordeaux, where you will get them cheaper than either
at La Rochelle or at Charenton, where they are in more request. I
would arm myself completely at all points with a plain, good suit,
which may be had at a low price, of just as strong materials as if you
paid two or three thousand livres for it. Then buy the armour of a
demi-lance for that stout youth whom I saw with you below. Two horses
may be had for you cheap enough if you can ride well; for there is a
Maquinon, called Pierrot, has got a troop of wild devils from the
Limousin, for which he can find no sale here among the merchants and
citizens, and soft-boned gentry of Bordeaux."

I smiled, replying, "We will ride them if they can be ridden."

"I advise you," he continued, "To do this rather than to furnish
yourself at the army, both because you will find it cheaper, and
because it always looks better, and gives a higher opinion of a man
when he joins his leader fully prepared. Besides, you have a chance of
some little adventure on the road, which may take off the freshness of
your arms, and give you some little reputation. Such things are as
common in these days as they were in the times of the knights-errant.
Now what I propose for you to do, when you have joined the army, is,
not for you to put yourself in this troop or that, as a simple
man-at-arms--for that is the way to get yourself killed speedily,
without anybody hearing anything of you--but to look about the camp
for any stray vagabonds that may be about; I mean of those whose whole
fortune consists in a steel cap, a breastplate, and a horse, and the
whole sum of whose virtues lies in courage. You will find two or three
young fellows too at every corner, who, like yourself, are seeking
service, fresh in arms, and willing to stick to any leader who will
but gallop them into the cannon's mouth. They are generally younger
than you are, for you have been somewhat late in taking to the trade.
That, however, will only make it the more likely they should follow
you, which is the great thing; for to be the leader of one of these
bands is the sure means of getting on, whereas, to be a follower in
one of them is the readiest way of getting hanged. You have then
nothing to do, you know, but to take up absolutely the trade of
adventurer, attack the enemy everywhere, harass him on every occasion,
cut off his parties, attack every chateau where you think there is a
soldier--in short, run your head against every stone wall that you
meet with. You may chance to knock some of them down; and if you do,
you will gain a reputation which will soon put you at the head of a
better band than that with which you set out. Good old soldiers will
be glad to come to you then, and you may work yourself up to be a
general by steadiness and perseverance."

"There are two things, however," I said, "Which you have forgotten to
mention: first, where I am to get the money to pay these recruits;
for, after I have bought horses, and arms for myself and Andriot,
there will not be much left to pay any one."

"Oh, they will pay themselves, they will pay themselves," he said.
"You may have, indeed, in the first instance, to give one or two of
those vagabonds who have seen service a crown a week, just to make the
beginning of a band; all the others you will take merely upon trial;
and, of course, you must put the Catholics under contributions. If
they will have war, let them have war and pay for it. It is an
undoubted fact, that, since the last peace, they have put to death, in
one town or another, full ten thousand Protestants; and, therefore, we
have a right to make them pay for such sorts of amusement. Then you
will put the prisoners to ransom, you know; and every one that is
taken by your men pays you a share too. You will therefore have plenty
to keep the band up as soon as it is formed. But what was your next
question?"

"Why, simply by whose authority I shall act," I replied; "for, not
being of sufficient authority and rank to levy war on my own account,
I must have some sanction for raising such a band."

"I had thought of that," he replied, "I had thought of that. Such
things are not, indeed, much considered in these wars; and, after all,
I believe you might do it on your own account: ay, and with right, for
your father was a man of good nobility as well as courage; and, though
he never had a crown in his purse to bless himself, might have spread
his own banner according to the ordinances of St. Louis."

"Did you know my father?" I demanded, somewhat surprised: "and, if you
did know him, how have you found out that I am his son?"

"I knew your father but little," replied the other, "though we have
fought side by side together before now; and as to the rest, you
forget that I saw you sign your name before the Jew. However, as it is
better that you should have some authority for what you do, I will
give you a letter to the Prince de Condé, telling him your plans and
purposes, and he will not refuse you a commission under his own hand
at the request of Robert Stuart."

"Robert Stuart!" I exclaimed; "What, he who killed the Constable
Montmorency at the battle of St. Denis?"

"The same man that you mean," replied my companion; "but, for all
that, I did not kill the constable. The world gives me greater credit
than I deserve. It was one of my band who shot him with a pistol. I
took him indeed, for he was down on the ground; and I thought he had
formally surrendered, and believe so still, when up he jumped, and,
with the pummel of his sword, dashed out my three front teeth,
knocking me backward on the ground, for I had dismounted to receive
his sword. One of my fellows, seeing this, called out that he was as
treacherous an enemy as a friend, and shot him on the spot. That is
the exact truth of the story that people tell twenty different ways.
And now, knowing who I am, you will wonder, perhaps, to see me here,
in a little inn, paying a few sous for my dinner. But the truth is, I
came to swell my band a little by any veteran men-at-arms I can find,
and also to meet here some half dozen of my friends from Scotland, who
are about to join me. Now there is a certain report gone abroad,
well-nigh as false as the other, that I was the person who caused that
old meddling fool, the President Minard, to be assassinated. There is
many a one of his friends here in the good town of Bordeaux, so that,
till I am well accompanied, it might not be pleasant to lodge at a
great inn and draw eyes upon me."

It may well be supposed that I now thanked this celebrated leader
gratefully for what he had done and proposed to do in my behalf. But
he replied that the Protestant cause was much at his heart; that he
loved a good soldier and the son of a good soldier, and that what he
had done for me was really nothing.

"Come," he said at length, "let us go and seek for the horses and
arms: bring your boy with you, and I will let my people know where I
am, that, in case the ship arrives, they may come and tell me."

The horses were soon bought, about twenty of them having been brought
out for me to try. For myself, I chose one of the strongest and most
fierce, having soon perceived that he was tractable and good in his
temper, though he was perfectly unbroken. A lighter horse served the
boy's turn; but I left my new friend to bargain with the dealer for
the price of both, and was surprised to find the small sum at which he
contrived to purchase the two. It is true, the dealer knew him, and
imagined that I was a man-at-arms newly engaged to serve under the
Scotch captain.

The arms were procured in a similar manner; and, being now fully
equipped, I returned with Stuart to the inn, telling him my intention
of setting out for the army that very night, in order not to lose any
time in pursuing the course before me.

"That is right," he said, "That is right; I like activity! You and
your man can get to Cubzac to-night. I will write the letter for you
at once; and, if you can pick up another follower or two in your way
to the camp, do not fail to do so; for, the more men you carry with
you, the warmer will be your welcome. Do not arm yourself till you get
to Cubzac, for the good people here might stop you. You must then
shape your course as you hear news of the army; but avoid Angoulême;
for, when I came by some ten days ago, that neighbourhood was somewhat
dangerous for a Protestant."

Of course my thanks were not wanting; and, immediately after our
arrival at the inn, he wrote the letter which he had promised; making
no mention, indeed, of my never having served before, but simply
telling the Prince de Condé, with whom he seemed on terms of great
intimacy, who I was, and that the object I proposed was to raise a
troop of adventurers in order to harass the Catholic armies. He
farther begged him not only to give me a commission to the effect he
proposed, but to point out to me the means of swelling my troop, and
to afford me every assistance in so doing.

When this was finished, and the armour charged upon the servant's
horse, I lost no time in mounting my own; and my new friend shaking me
as heartily by the hand as if we had known each other for years, bade
me adieu, saying that we should soon meet again at the camp. The
landlord of the auberge and his drawers all bowed low as I came away,
for I had paid whatever was asked, and perhaps had been more liberal
to the attendants than some of the frequenters of the inn not poorer
than myself; and, with a heart considerably lightened, I rode away and
quitted the city of Bordeaux.

My first sensations were those of joy and satisfaction at being no
longer dependant upon the bounty of any one, but bent upon my way
through the wide world to win for myself honour and renown, and, as I
trusted, high station and happy competence.

But, even while I was passing the ferry, those sensations began to
change. I thought with some regret of the chateau of Blancford, of
good old La Tour, of the two glad, light-hearted boys, who had been my
companions for many a year, and of the sweet girl, whom I might never
see again. A feeling of solitude came over me, and I do believe that
it is impossible even for him who has the lightest heart, the
brightest hope, and the most enviable situation, to quit the scenes
and the companions of his youth without feeling as if he were left
alone in the whole wide world, and without seeing before his eyes
vague visions of the difficulties, dangers, distresses, and griefs
which await every man who passes forth into active existence.

Such, at least, were my sensations; and, after landing, paying the
ferryman his fare, and ascending the heights on the other side, I
paused to look back over the scene that I was quitting, and a thousand
bright and happy memories, clinging to my heart like children that
would keep a parent from the wars, seemed to hold me to the spot with
a force I could scarcely resist.

I thought of the condition of those that I had left behind; I saw the
peaceful dwelling where I had spent so many years with but few of
earth's discomforts, rendered the abode of contention, and sorrow, and
discomfort; I fancied the grief of the two youths when they found that
I was gone; I beheld the fair face of Louise bathed in tears, as she
remained unprotected and alone, and left to the guidance, the control,
perhaps the tyranny, of a harsh, bad woman. It was all painful; the
thought almost unmanned me, and I would have given worlds to rescue
her from such a painful situation.

I felt that I must call up such images no longer; but still the form
and face of Louise haunted me: and at length, out of the darker and
more gloomy thoughts that filled my brain, came forth a bright and
lustrous hope, a hope on which I dared not let my mind rest; which was
like the night vision of an angel to some lonely anchorite, too
brilliant for the eye to gaze upon firmly, but yet full of joy, and
consolation, and encouragement.

It was the first time that ever such a dream had suggested itself even
to my imagination. It was wild, it was foolish; but yet how sweet was
the idea, that the time might come when, having, by the exertion of
every power of my mind and body, conquered the difficulties which
surrounded me, swept away poverty and dependance, gained fame, and
honour, and emolument, I might be enabled to snatch that sweet girl
from the dark and hateful tyranny which I believed the rule of her
mother's rival must necessarily become, and to repay in some degree,
by kindness, and tenderness, and love for the child, the kindness, and
tenderness, and love which had been shown to me by the mother.

But, almost in the very act of thus dreaming, there came upon me the
memory of all that multitude of obstacles--I might almost say, of
impossibilities--which lay in the way to the fulfilment of such hopes.
But I felt at the same time that, though it was only a fancy, it was a
noble one; that, though it was merely a wild aspiration after that
which could not be, it was a high aspiration; one that might lead me
to great attempts, if not to great deeds; one that would even guard me
against low and debasing pursuits, that would elevate my purposes, and
give object to my energies and exertions. I felt that such an object
was holy and great, and I speak with reverence when I say that it
seemed to me then like the star which led the Magi from the east.

As this image rose upon my mind, it soothed and it strengthened me;
and I could gaze upon the city, with its manifold towers and steeples
reposing calmly in the rich purple light of evening, and upon the
distant sloping grounds beyond, leading away towards Blancford, and on
the wanderings of the bright Garonne, as, rolling down from Langdon,
it swept on by the city towards its meeting with the kindred stream,
and on their joint progress to the ocean: I could gaze, in short, upon
all the natural objects which my eye had been accustomed to behold
from childhood, without that deep feeling of regret on quitting them
which I had experienced the moment before; and, as I turned my horse's
rein to ride on, I murmured,

"I shall see you all again, perhaps, with a lighter heart and a spirit
more at rest."

The country was well known to me; for, during the last two or three
years, I had made manifold excursions from the chateau in different
directions; and now, leaving the high road somewhat to the right, I
took a bridle-path which conducted me towards my place of rest for the
night more rapidly, though somewhat more roughly, than the ordinary
track.

Advancing somewhat quickly, for my charger was impatient of the
bridle, I passed a man upon a small rugged horse, neither very fat nor
very comely in its appearance, and apparently little able to carry him
and the large package which he bore on the croup behind. When first I
saw him he was trailing a spear along, with one end of the shaft
describing a long zigzag line upon the road; but the sound of a
horse's feet made him turn round rapidly, and his lance was brought
into rest in a moment, in a way that bespoke no slight practice in
charging a sudden enemy.

Whether on an occasion he might charge any one without much
considering if it were an enemy or friend, I did not know at the time;
but such things were very common in those days, though I think the
worthy gentleman was somewhat too badly mounted to attempt the
experiment upon me, even if I had been alone.

We passed, however, in all safety, with a "Good-evening, seigneur," on
the part of our fellow-traveller. I had only time, as I passed by, to
remark that he was a tall, rawboned man, with a countenance which did
not prepossess any one very much in his favour. He was somewhat dirty
in his clothing, and rugged in his person and appearance also; though
there was a roguish twinkle in his eye, which did not escape my
attention, even in the slight glance I obtained.

In a short time after I arrived at Cubzac, and rode straight to the
inn, the hospitable doors of which showed themselves very willing to
give me admission.

When I stood in the courtyard, however, and saw my armour and my
valise unloaded from Andriot's horse, while the aubergiste waited to
conduct me, with every appearance of reverence, towards the hall of
general entertainment, a strange feeling suddenly came over me, from
the recollection that it was not yet four-and-twenty hours since the
arrival of the Baron de Blancford at his own chateau, that all I had
done--the making of a new acquaintance, my dealings with the Jew, the
purchase of horses and of arms, and a hundred little incidents, which
appeared to me like the occupations of a life--had in reality occupied
but a few hours. So it was, however: my whole fate and course of
existence had been changed as by the stroke of a magician's wand,
which had set me free in a moment from the state of indolent
dependance in which I had been forced to remain like one of the
spirits in the old fables, imprisoned motionless in the heart of some
knotted oak, and had sent me forth in a moment to active life and
energetic exertion.

There was something ennobling, elevating, inspiring in the feelings,
very different from the sensations with which I had looked back upon
the scenes I was leaving, from the northern bank of the Garonne. That
all this had been accomplished in so short a space, gave me a
sensation of power and energy; a confidence in myself which I had
before wanted; and in the calm and deliberate step, and thoughtful air
with which I followed the landlord into the auberge, no one, I think,
could have discovered any trace of a mind as inexperienced as that of
a mere boy.

The hall of the inn was a very spacious one; and a long table appeared
in the middle, at the farther end of which I could just see, through
the dim twilight of the evening, some seven or eight persons assembled
round what seemed a hasty supper. One of the servants of the inn,
however, brought in lights almost immediately after I had entered; and
it then became evident that the party had just arrived from some long
journey. There were two or three grave, elderly men of respectable
appearance, apparently tradesmen of some importance, or merchants.
There was a good dame, too, of the same class, with two or three
little girls of seven or eight years old, and one or two women
servants; besides which, there was a youth of eighteen or nineteen,
strong and well made, scarcely tasting his supper, but sitting beside
the rest, and resting thoughtfully, with his head leaning on his hand.

Manifold were the caps and mantles which covered the whole party; and
one would certainly have supposed, from the way in which they were
wrapped up, that we were in the midst of winter rather than in the
warmest time of year. It often happened at that time, however, that
such superabundant garments were adopted for the purpose of
concealment; and I judged, and judged rightly, that these might be a
party of wealthy traders, who, travelling through a disturbed country,
and in dangerous times, chose to be recognised as little as possible,
lest the report of wealth might draw upon them the attention of the
plunderers with whom the country was overrun.

All their eyes had been turned upon me as soon as I entered; the
conversation they were carrying on ceased; and, as if for something to
say, one of the elder men addressed the younger, saying,

"Why do you not eat your supper, Martin? You are not sick, are you?"

"Not sick, uncle, but sorry," replied the lad.

"Pshaw! Thou art a whimsical boy," replied the elder man. "I can tell
thee, however poor a trade thou mayest follow, it is richer than that
of a soldier. Here is this gentleman coming in," he added, raising his
eyes to me as I stood half way up the table. "He looks as if he knew
something of arms, and I dare say will tell thee that to sell silk or
linen, however little one may get, is better than fighting all day,
watching all night, and having hard blows for one's only payment."

I laughed at his description of the soldier's life; and, as he
addressed me first, replied at once, "I cannot think we are so badly
off as that, my good sir. Every one knows his own taste; and, though
certainly fortunes are rarely made by the sword, yet honour is gained,
and glory, and frequently competence; and you must remember there is
not a noble family in the land which does not owe its elevation to the
sword."

"That was in other days, that was in other days," said the elder man.
"But I am right, then, in thinking you a soldier, sir?"

I nodded my head, and was about to reply somewhat more fully, when
Andriot entered the room and whispered a word or two in my ear, which
made me rise and go out, while the landlord busily put down my cover,
and prepared to give me supper.

The intelligence which the lad had brought me was simply that the man
with the spear, whom we had passed on the road, had come into the
inn-yard, and, finding him there, had asked him many questions
concerning me. The good youth had been in one of his loquacious moods,
and had given the interrogator more information than I thought right,
telling him my name, and that I was a gentleman going to join the
army. On this the other had immediately asked to speak with me, and I
accordingly went out at once, in order to put my mind at ease with
regard to the person in whose favour Andriot had shown himself so
communicative.

I found him in the courtyard busy in unloading his beast, and
examining the contents of the package he had thus carried behind him,
which proved to be a considerable store of very miscellaneous pieces
of armour, both offensive and defensive. The cuirass was at that
moment on the top, and, from its condition, left little doubt that one
of its possessors, at least, had seen some service like itself; for
not only did sundry hacks and dents betray the fact of many a close
encounter, but a large round hole appeared to have been perforated,
either by bullet or lance, on the right-hand side, near the armhole;
and the gap was now curiously stopped up by means of a piece of thick
leather, attached by nails driven through the iron and clinched on the
inside.

"Why, my good friend," I said, looking at the cuirass, and without
taking any immediate notice of his message, "that piece of leather
will never keep out anything."

"It will keep out anything I want it to keep out," replied the man,
looking up at me with a laugh.

"And what is that?" I demanded; "What is it you want it to keep out?"

"The wind," he replied; "for when the wind gets in between cold iron
and an empty stomach, a man gets melancholy, and has no appetite for
dry blows. But I know what you mean; that sword, or bullet, or spear
would go through it as easily as a skewer through a cock of the
Indies; but there's not much chance of any other bullet finding out
that place again; and if it did, no great matter, for it would meet
with its fellow here, just lying between the ribs, under my armpit,
and that would stop it from going any farther."

"That is looking upon the matter rationally," I replied; "but now, my
good friend, what is it that you wanted with me?"

"Why, simply this, seigneur," he replied; "finding that you are a
soldier going to join the army, and having heard of your name a great
many years ago as a very brave and gallant gentleman--"

"You must mean my father," I said, interrupting him: "my name you most
likely have never heard."

"Ay, I dare say it was your father, now look at you," he replied, "for
you couldn't be much out of your swaddling-clothes at the time I talk
of. However, I was going to propose, that you, being travelling alone,
or nearly so, and I alone, or what's somewhat worse than alone, having
nothing but a bad beast with me, which trots me five miles an hour,
and thinks itself a miracle--I was going to propose, I say, that we
should join company; for in these days we may fall in with friends and
acquaintances by the way, where we shall find two right hands better
than one. Besides, we may chance to fall in with some booty, and two
dogs will always kill more game than twice one dog."

On the very face of the matter, the proposal was somewhat impudent;
for at least my clothing, my horses, and, I trust, my appearance
altogether, were those of a man of high birth; but when I came to look
my companion over more attentively by the twilight, which did not
improve his appearance, it struck me as more impudent still. He
was a person of about forty-five years of age, lean, long-limbed,
thin-flanked, broad in the shoulders, with as unprepossessing a
countenance as it was possible to imagine, and nothing on earth to
redeem it from a sort of assassin-like expression, except a merry but
somewhat sarcastic glance, which occasionally came into his eyes, or,
rather, into one of them, for it was the right eye only which had any
movement; and I afterward found that the left was made of glass,
though a very good imitation of the other.

What might have been the original shape of his nose I do not know; but
a large cut across the bridge and down one cheek seemed to indicate
that its conformation had been somewhat violently changed into its
present Socratic turn upward.

His long gray hair, thin and ragged, his unwashed face, his untrimmed
beard, all added to the sinister appearance of his countenance, and,
in short, no one could look at him without doing him the same bitter
injustice that I did him at that moment, and thinking him as murderous
and rascally a person as it was possible to set one's eyes on. Besides
all this, his garments were anything but that which one would have
desired in a friend and companion; for his buff jerkin, besides the
rusty stains which had been left upon it after having been worn under
ill-cleaned armour, was soiled and dirty in various other ways, and in
more than one place patched with a piece of gray cloth.

He stood my survey quite quietly; and, indeed, the discrepant gaze of
his two eyes rendered it somewhat difficult to tell whether he was
looking full in my face or across the inn-yard on the other side.
After having remained for about half a minute silent, however, he
brought both eyes into a straight line, demanding, in a significant
tone. "Am not I an ugly dog?"

"Yes," I replied, "you are. But you have made a little mistake, my
good friend; I am not seeking companions, but raising a troop to serve
under my command."

"Then I am the very man you want," he replied; "for I have experience,
and you have none, that's clear enough; and I do not much care what I
do, whether it be as a leader or follower, so that I do something."

"I don't think you would do much credit to my new troop," I replied,
"unless you troubled the brook a little oftener, and gave the barber a
sous at least once a month."

"Oh, that is easily remedied," said the adventurer; "I have no sous to
spare, but I have ten fingers, baiting one which was hacked off at the
battle of St. Denis, which will do as well for me as any barber in
Christendom; and then, again, though water is not plenty in this hot
weather, yet it is to be had. As to my jerkin, too, a couple of ounces
of chalk, and the worth of a denier of yellow ochre, will put that all
to rights; so that, if you like to have me, I will turn out to-morrow
morning as smart a trooper as you'd wish to see. I cannot get rid of
my face though, so you must make the best of that."

"What religion are you of?" I asked, wishing to ascertain that point
first before I divulged my own.

"I don't know," he replied. "What is yours?"

There was a sort of quaint oddity about the fellow which amused me,
and, I confess, made me think better of him, though I know not why,
and I demanded, without answering his question, "Who have you served
under?"

"Two or three dozen," he answered; "but I have got my character
written down for the benefit of those whom it may concern by a great
many of my different friends, and I have not altered a word of their
certificates, for it is useless for a man to try to change his nature,
and it will come out sooner or later. Who will you have?" he
continued; "here is Martigues on the one side, and Andelot on the
other. Here is Puygaillard, and Lossac, and Stuart, and--"

"Stay, stay," I said; "That will do. Let me see Martigues on the one
side, and Stuart on the other."

"You are a cute bird, after all," he said; "You wont be limed, I see,
to show yourself a Protestant or a Catholic. However, here are the
papers."

And, lifting up the flap of his jerkin, he drew from an inner pocket a
number of dirty pieces of paper, of which he placed in my hands two,
saying, "There they are."

The first I opened was in a strange hand, and it went on as follows:

"This is to signify that Moric Endem is the greatest liar in Europe;
but none the worse for that. He fights like a tiger, and will now and
then obey his orders."

This was signed "Martigues;" and the other, which I instantly
recognised as the same handwriting wherein Stuart had given me a
letter to the Prince de Condé, was much in the same strain.

"I hereby aver," it said, "That Moric Endem is better than he looks.
He will stand by a friend or leader till the last, and has done so
many brave things, that he is a fool for bragging of things that he
never did."

I smiled as I read such accounts of my volunteer, but paused for a
moment to consider whether there was a possibility of my being
deceived. Had I been still is the frame of mind in which I had set out
that morning, I should have lost my opportunity, and rejected the
offer of a man who afterward proved of infinite use to me. But, as I
have said, I had become somewhat more confident in myself by this
time: Stuart's recommendation to increase my numbers as far as
possible had been strong; and therefore I determined to run the risk,
as in case of any malconduct on the part of my new follower, I and
Andriot were at least two to one against him.

"And now, Monsieur Moric Endem," I said, "Which would you rather serve
on, the Catholic or the Protestant side? Answer me fairly, for on the
reply hangs all our proceedings."

"That is not a fair question," he cried, flinging down his cap upon
the ground with some vehemence. "That is not a fair question to a
soldier of fortune. The matter, see you, is balanced pretty evenly, my
young lord. With the Catholics there is pay and but little plunder,
for the Protestants have nothing to lose. With the Protestants there
is no pay but plenty of plunder; for each Catholic, like a fool, comes
with a fortune on his back. I have, indeed, a little hankering one
way--"

"What, then," I said, "do the Protestants give no pay?"

"By St. Geronimo," he cried, slapping his thigh, "You are a Catholic!
But, no," he continued, a moment after, "I remember quite well Cerons
was a Protestant, and so was his cousin the Baron de Blancford. If you
are the young lord, you are a Protestant too."

"Perhaps it may be so," I replied, in a low tone, but with a
significant look.

"Well, then, I am your man," he said, without raising his voice; "for,
to say sooth, I was born and bred a Protestant. But it is full thirty
years since I thought of those things; and, on my honour, I don't well
know what's the difference now. As to the rest, my young master, you
must give me a crown to gild my hand, and you must give me and my
horse something to eat till we get to the army, at all events; for, if
I had not met with you this night, he and I would have shared supper;
that is to say, he would have had the hay and I the water, and
to-morrow we might have been obliged to prove troublesome to any one
we met upon the road. I declare, so help me Heaven, I have not seen a
crown piece for the last two months."

"I am nearly as poor as yourself, Moric," I said; "however, there is a
crown for you, and now you are my follower; but I expect to see a
change in your appearance by to-morrow, and you had better get your
armour on your back, as I intend to do with mine, so that we may be
well prepared for all things."

"You shall see a change, you shall see a change, sir," cried the man;
"and I will help to fill your purse as you have now helped to fill
mine. I will get this crown changed directly into silver and billon,
that it may feel heavy in my purse, and make me think of the days of
old; for I have had many more crowns in my pocket, I dare say, than
you have in yours now. But, however--I don't know how it was--peace
never lasted six months without finding me as poor as ever; the
pockets grew empty, and the crowns went away, some to one slut, some
to another, and the rest, as I have heard Stuart tell of an English
prince, were drowned in butts of Malmsey or Burgundy, as the case
might be. But I will go and polish my armour, and patch my jacket, and
wash my face, and trim my beard, and then I must try and get a new
horse the first time I meet an enemy, though it is to be confessed
that on the back of that brute there are ten chances to one against
me."

While Moric Endem was speaking, the landlord came from the house to
seek me, telling me that my supper was not only ready, but getting
cold; and, leaving my new follower to make the best arrangements he
could, I re-entered the hall of the inn.

I found the party that I had left there concluding their supper, and
they all looked at me as I sat down to mine with a sort of shy and
anxious, but yet not a reserved look, somewhat like that which a dog
puts on when he is willing to be familiar with us, but somewhat afraid
of trusting to our kindness. The two elder men, however, and the elder
lady, entered into conversation with me after a short time, and I saw
evidently that they were endeavouring to probe my character and
feelings. Those, however, were sad days, when no one dared to trust to
his neighbour; and I as little chose to confide my views or purposes
to them, as they chose to put any trust or confidence in me.

The conversation, then, was merely general: I found that one of the
elder merchants had travelled much, and had considerable information,
and he seemed not a little surprised to find that a young soldier
could possess so much general knowledge as I had acquired during my
long period of study.

The younger people, too, began to draw nearer to me; and some little
sportive jests, such as I would have used towards my cousins at
Blancford, appeared completely to win their hearts, so that they were
speedily clinging round me, playing with the tassels of my cloak or my
sword-knot, and taking a thousand little liberties, for which they
were, of course, gravely reproved by their elders.

The young man who had been called Martin, however, sat silent and
thoughtful for a long time, and at length only spoke to ask me some
questions concerning the movements of the armies. The first words on
that subject, however, seemed a signal for the party to break up, his
uncle interrupting him immediately by saying it was time to go to bed;
and the whole then retired, wishing me good-night and a prosperous
journey on the morrow.

Their reserved conduct was not explained till the following morning,
when, on rising early, I saw them setting off from the courtyard, and
the aubergiste, as innkeepers generally do, came instantly to
volunteer every information he possessed regarding the guests who were
just gone.

"Ay, poor people," he said, "silly people they are. I told them they
might trust to you, seigneur, and what a protection it would be to
them to have you with them; for they are a party of rich merchants, as
you might well see, sir, and doubtless have their pockets lined with
many a good gold piece, so that they are afraid of all the bands of
plunderers about, especially at the passages of the rivers."

"What religion are they of?" demanded I, nothing doubting they were
Protestants, as the landlord himself was well known to be of my own
creed.

To my astonishment, however, he answered that they were "poor
misguided Catholics. That is to say," he continued, "they are what
people are beginning to call nowadays, I hear, politics, which means
people that are neither very much one thing nor the other. That eldest
one is the well-known Paris merchant, Martin Vern, who has so much to
do with the Jews and Lombards. I've a great notion he's a Protestant
at heart; though his life, and all his goods, which he loves better
than his life, would be in jeopardy every hour in Paris if he did not
go to mass as regularly as the clock strikes the hour. It seems that
young Martin, the nephew, had his father's promise to be made a
soldier of; but the father died a month or so ago, which brought them
all into this part of the country, and old Martin won't hear of the
boy's taking to the sword. Yet I would stake my life that they are
attacked before they get many miles farther, and then they will find
that young Martin's stout back and strong arm are both shield and
sword for them. I hope, sir, we shall have good news of you at the
army; but you might as well have won a few gold pieces by the way of
conducting three fat merchants safely. With what will you please to
break your fast! It is not well to set out fasting, as they have done,
and it's good twelve miles ere you get to Cavignac."

"I am not going to Cavignac, my good host," I replied, not choosing
exactly to have my route settled for me.

"Ay, then," he answered, "you are going to Guitres, which is farther
still; but in that case you'll have to pass the Saye low down, and I
fear that all the rain which fell last night may have rendered the
ford impassable. Besides all that, however, I heard that Lossac and
his band were lying between St. Aulaye and Contras, and it is even to
be doubted whether he does not keep parties scouring the whole country
up as far as Barbezieux, for he wants to prevent the bands from the
South from joining our great admiral and the Prince de Condé. So you
had better take my advice and keep hard away to the west, though you
do get among the sands, for you are not strong enough to do much
against any of his people, and must e'en have recourse to what we call
fox's strength, by which I mean cunning."

I thanked the aubergiste for his good information, which was, indeed,
not a little important to me; for the armies of the Prince de Condé
and the Duke of Montpensier were so placed that it was difficult for
either to reach its resources, and no less so, for any one wishing to
join the one, to avoid falling into the hands of the other.

The tidings I had received cast me into a momentary fit of musing; and
the aubergiste, seeing the effect his words had produced, and, at the
same time, having a strong desire that I should take my breakfast at
his house, represented to me that, if I would but wait for half an
hour, a courier from Angoulême would pass through Cubzac, and from him
we could extract much information.

I agreed to his suggestion; and, soon after the morning meal had been
prepared, I heard the arrival of the courier himself, and learned that
he had passed a small band of horse, whether troops of Lossac or not
he could not tell. They amounted not to more than six or seven
persons, he said, and were apparently moving back towards Cercon.

These tidings having been obtained, I had nothing farther to detain me
at Cubzac; and, paying the host his reckoning, I mounted to my
chamber, clothed myself in my good suit of steel, and, after calling
loudly, but in vain, for Andriot, to make the rest of my goods and
chattels into as small packages as possible, that it might be carried
more easily, I descended to the courtyard to see what had become of my
young attendant and my new follower, the latter of whom I had not seen
during the whole morning.

I found them together, behind some stables at the back of the auberge,
chaffering with a sturdy farmer of the neighbourhood in regard to a
proposed exchange of Master Moric Endem's piece of lean cattle for a
fine, fresh, sturdy, but rather vicious horse belonging to the other.
Moric had offered, it seems, to give his own horse, and all the
remains of the crown which I had given him the day before, together
with another crown that Andriot had lent him, for the more powerful
and befitting charger which had been placed before his eyes. The
farmer, however, stood out for another piece of money, and I was fain
now to come forward and give it, though the price seemed to be
somewhat exorbitant.[1] The horse that Moric already possessed was
anything but fit for the journey; and, as he willingly agreed that I
was to be considered the proprietor of the beast now purchased, it
gave me a greater command over him than I might otherwise have
obtained.

After all this was concluded and the horse in his hands, I gave a
glance towards my new follower's figure, and saw that it certainly was
as much improved as his form and features would admit. The buff jerkin
was now cleared from its rusty stains and spots of dirt, and was
shining in the full freshness of chalk and yellow ochre. It seemed
scarcely dry as yet, indeed; but that circumstance he did not appear
to mind; and the plain steel cap with flying cheek-pieces, into which
he had thrust his head, had been painted with a sort of Indian black
since the night before, so as to look very smart, without offering a
very shining or conspicuous point to the eye of a watchful enemy.

No other piece of armour had yet been put on, I suppose in order to
give the buff jerkin time to dry; but when, after having told him to
hasten his preparations for departure, I came down once more with
Andriot to mount my horse, I found Master Moric armed from head to
foot, with his cuirass also painted black; thus hiding, in a great
measure, the unseemly patch upon his right side.

If I contemplated him with some attention, well pleased with his
neatly-trimmed beard and well-washed face, he did not seem to regard
me less narrowly or with less apparent pleasure, scanning all the
pieces of my arms with an experienced eye, and rubbing his hands
joyfully as he saw how easily they sat upon me. The ease with which I
managed my horse too, though the brute kicked and plunged most
unmercifully on first being mounted, gave him no less satisfaction;
and it was only upon Andriot that he bestowed some counsels and some
reproof in regard to the unsoldierly manner in which he had put on his
morion. When all was completed, we set out from Cubzac, and took our
road onward towards Barbezieux. As we went, Moric treated me with a
large portion of his conversation, amusing by its quaint drollery, but
occasionally tiresome from touches of that rhodomontade whereof he had
been accused. Were his own word to be believed, there was no great
action which had been enacted during the last half century that he had
not either absolutely performed himself or had a very considerable and
important share therein. But he even went beyond that; and when he
began telling a story of any one else, it very often happened that he
entirely forgot, before he came to the end of his tale, the original
hero with whom he set out, dropped the third person, took up the
first, changed the personage spoken of to himself, and performed all
the last acts he had to relate in his own person.

The most ludicrous instance of this kind of transformation took place
while he was giving me an account of the tournament at which King
Henry II. had been killed not many years before, and at which Moric
had been present. He asserted that the fault which occasioned the
death of the king was entirely on the part of Montgomery; but, before
he had finished his tale, he entirely forgot that declaration, got
warm and heated with the subject, was seized with the peculiar sort of
cupidity which induced him so constantly to appropriate the actions of
others, and becoming Montgomery himself, described how he had killed
the King of France, and explained, with the utmost perspicuity and
exactitude, the eager feelings with which he had been animated, and
which prevented him from recollecting in time that it was necessary to
throw away instantly the broken staff of his lance.

I could not help laughing at this absurdity; but he took it all in
good part, laughed himself, and declared that it was every word true,
except that he was the person who did it.

In many other respects, however, his conversation was full of
interest. He was an old veteran soldier, and full of information upon
every practical point, both of military tactics and military habits.
As far as study could render me acquainted with the subject, I was so
already; but I gained more useful information from my new follower in
a few hours, more directions for employing well the science that I had
acquired, than I could have done from the best master of the art in
weeks or months.

From him, too, I learned all the habits and manners of the camp; the
rules, the regulations, the etiquettes, which I had before no notion
of. What could and might be done, what could not be done, he told me;
and I found that, constituted as armies of that period were--low in
discipline, licentious in habits--with a little complaisance to the
great leaders, and the observation of a few insignificant regulations,
the captain of such a party as I proposed to raise might, in fact, do
anything that he liked, and act totally independent of the general
during almost the whole of his campaign, provided he showed himself
daring and fearless, and ready to fight whenever he was called upon.

As we were conversing in this manner while we pursued our onward way,
we came to the high grounds near the little hamlet of Marceau, and,
looking down over the country below, we saw a considerable number of
people riding along, as if in great haste and confusion, upon the bank
of the river, and at some distance to the right another party appeared
upon the edge of the little slope, while the sun, glittering upon
their arms, left no doubt whatever that they were troopers of some
kind.

"Those are surely the poor merchants," I said, "who left Cubzac this
morning."

"Ay," said the old soldier, "They are running away from those worthies
on the hill; some of Lassac's people, I suppose. But the stupid fools
have missed the ford. It is there, a hundred yards to the right, and
they are running away from it. I know it as well as my own buff
jerkin. They will get themselves caught and plundered if they don't
mind."

"Let us go down and help them," I exclaimed. "If you know the ford, we
can reach them before the others, and once having them across, we can
turn and take a blow or two with the pursuers."

"Bravo! bravo, my captain!" cried Moric Endem. "That's the way! That's
the way! It seems as if you had been born and bred to it! Always fight
the enemy when he's not more than two to one! I am with you, my good
captain!"

And, spurring down the hill at full speed, we approached the party of
merchants, who, terrified at seeing another body of troopers on the
opposite side, paused and hesitated, till, taking off my steel cap, I
waved it in the air, calling to them not to be afraid.

It seems that I was instantly recognised, for they stopped, and some
advanced towards me, while, pointing with my hand towards the spot
which Moric had indicated as the ford, I shouted to them to ride in
that way with all speed.

People in a fright, however, never understand anything that is said to
them, and they did not obey my directions till I reached them, so that
by the time we got them to the side of the river, and some of the
horses into the water, the enemy were close upon us. It seemed to me
just like one of the military games which I had been accustomed to
play with the old retainers and my young cousins. With Moric Endem and
Andriot, I turned my horse upon the pursuers; the lad Martin rode up
in a minute to my side; one of his uncles could not resist following;
and, by a sudden and unexpected charge, we drove the enemy back, who
paused for a moment's consideration before they followed us again.

"Now, seigneur," cried Moric, "quick over the stream, for the river is
coming down like fury, and in ten minutes more will be impassable. We
can easily keep the opposite bank when we are over."

I had remarked that the water was up to the girths of the horses'
saddles when the party of merchants passed, and therefore, without
more ado, I gave the necessary order for crossing the stream. We found
that the little river Saye, like some of the others that flow into the
Isle, subject to a sudden increase, had become a complete torrent in
consequence of the rain which had fallen during the night, and was
swelling every moment, coming down in large brown eddies, which nearly
carried our horses off their feet. The two merchants who had remained
with us and Andriot passed first, and I followed, thinking that my
friend Moric was close behind me; but, in charging the Catholics, one
of them had been struck to the ground, slightly wounded, near the bank
of the stream, and Moric's fondness for plunder could not be
restrained. The man-at-arms, indeed, had run away, but the horse had
somehow got his feet entangled with the bridle, and remained very
soberly lying on the ground.

Turning round when I had half crossed the stream, I perceived my
worthy follower busily employed upon the saddle, and shouted to him
that the enemy were upon him. He looked up, however, calculated the
distance nicely, finished the operation of cutting the girths with his
dagger, threw the rich saddle and its caparisons on the crupper of his
own horse, sprang upon his back in a moment, and plunged into the
river, with the spears of the Catholics close at his horse's flanks.
The water had risen some inches since I had passed; his horse was not
quite so tall as mine, and for a few feet had to swim; but Moric Endem
was never at all discomposed by any such little adventure; and,
keeping his spurs close to the horse's sides, brought him to land, not
more than a few yards below the spot where the rest were standing.

The Catholic band pursued him into the water, and one of them seemed
inclined to follow his example in swimming; but Moric was by no means
unprepared; and snatching from the miscellaneous crowd of arms which
surrounded his saddle a long horse-pistol, which fired with a flint
and wheel, he took a deliberate aim at the pursuer's horse and shot
him in the water. Though the wound was mortal, the horse, luckily for
its rider, dashed out of the water before it fell; and Moric, scarcely
staying to mark the effect, proceeded calmly and quietly to examine
the saddle which he had taken, to rip off the gold lace and velvet
which covered it, and to extract from the lining of the bow some
twenty gold pieces, which were there stowed away for security.

Laughing at his prize, he rode up to us, and breaking in upon the
expressions of gratitude which the merchants were pouring upon me, he
pointed to the tops of a thick wood of sapins which were seen it the
distance of about two miles, saying,

"We had better ride on that way; for, if these fellows see us remain
talking here, they will go down to the bridge and pursue us out of
very spite. If we set off quick for the wood, however, they will know
that it is useless, and we shall go on in quiet."

His advice was immediately followed; and, turning round on a little
elevation before we reached the wood, we had the satisfaction of
seeing that the enemy had given up the pursuit, and were slowly
proceeding across the country in another direction.




CHAPTER VI.


It was not till we had placed several miles between us and the enemy
that the good merchants felt at all satisfied of their security; and
they pursued their way with a degree of eagerness which soon brought
us into the midst of the sandy tracks in the neighbourhood of
Cheperiers. We then came to the banks of a little stream, the name of
which I forget; and, as the women and children were now evidently much
tired, I assured good Master Vern that there was no farther danger, at
least from those who had already attacked him; and, dismounting from
our horses upon the banks of the stream, we let the beasts crop the
scanty herbage, while we prepared to repose and refresh ourselves from
a good store of provisions which the traders had brought with them
from the inn. The faces of the women and children were still somewhat
pale, both from fear and fatigue, and Martin Vern and his companion
looked grave and thoughtful, as I imagined, from the risk their
property had just run.

Young Martin, however, who had been as far forward in our little fray
with the enemy as if he had been armed with steel from head to foot,
looked not a little proud of his exploits, especially as somehow, I do
not very well know how, he had got a sharp gash upon the forehead,
which bled a little, and promised to leave a military mark upon him
that he was not likely easily to get rid of. Seeing the two elder
merchants standing apart, busily talking to each other, I advanced to
the young man, and, shaking hands with him, complimented him highly
upon his courage and promptitude. He grasped my hand again, but said
nothing that was audible, while the colour came up bright into his
cheek, and he looked confused as well as gratified.

Ere I had well concluded what I had to say, however, Master Vern and
his companion came up; and the former took my hand, saying, "Permit me
to touch your hand, seigneur, and to offer you my very best thanks for
saving us all this day. The landlord of the inn at Cubzac informed us
this morning that we might well trust to you; but we poor merchants,
going on business from one part of the kingdom to another, are forced
in these troublous times to be so careful, that sometimes prudence
acts the part of imprudence, and, by refusing to trust when we ought,
we do ourselves as much harm as by trusting when we ought not."

Not knowing very well where his harangue was about to lead him, and
never having been particularly fond of thanks of any kind, I took the
first opportunity of replying, that what I had done was a mere
nothing, a piece of common humanity; and I added, laughing, "To-day's
adventure, good sir, should teach you Catholics to treat us poor
Protestants somewhat better than you do; for here you have been
attacked, though unarmed, and would doubtless have been plundered by
your own party, while you have been defended by Protestants only
because you were unoffending people."

"Oh, sir," said both the merchants at once, "we are not the sort of
Catholics you take us for. We look upon the Protestants just as much
like brethren as they do each other. We see no reason why any man
should be condemned for worshipping God in his own way."

"There are many sorts of Catholics in France, sir," continued Martin
Vern; "and those who call us _Politics_ well deserve the name
themselves, for their religion is all a matter of politics together.
But, however, we are no enemies to the Protestants; for I am even now
going to the camp of the Prince de Condé, to treat with him on my own
part, and that of my good friend Solomon Ahar, concerning some stores
and other matters that he requires."

"Indeed!" I said, with some surprise; "Then I am certainly the more
glad that I have rendered you this little service."

"The Prince de Condé will be glad too, sir," replied the merchant;
"and I shall take care that he knows to whom it is owing. I think the
aubergiste told me your name was Monsieur Cerons. But all such
professions of gratitude I know are vain; and my companion and myself
have agreed to beg your acceptance of this purse of fifty crowns for
the service that you have already rendered us, promising you the same
sum if you will kindly conduct us in safety to the camp of the
prince."

Heaven knows that I was as poor as might be; that I calculated upon my
sword as my sole means of fortune, and that I could never have gained
any little sum in a more honest or honourable way. But yet it went
against me to take the man's money, and I had to think two or three
times before I could bring myself to resolve upon so doing. The
merchant saw my situation, and, not knowing how inexperienced I was in
such matters, attributed it to a wrong cause.

"We would offer you more, sir," he said; "but the fact is, the
speculation on which we are going is a very uncertain one. We cannot
gain much, but we may lose much. Otherwise--"

"Think not of that, think not of that," I said; "I was only hesitating
whether I should take your money at all. Nor would I do so, but the
fact is, I am but a soldier of fortune, Monsieur Vern, and am now
trying to raise a troop with but small means of doing so. If I take
the money at all, therefore, it is for the purpose of increasing my
number as I go along, which will add to your own security. Of the
fifty pieces that you offer me, I shall give ten to each of the men,
and will employ the other thirty in recruiting my numbers, if I can
meet with any likely men either at Jonsac or Barbezieux. The other
fifty will depend upon whether we guide you well and rightly, and that
I shall take without hesitation, as that to which I feel some right."

"You shall have deep thanks and gratitude into the bargain," replied
the merchant; "and, although you gentlemen of the sword do not value
much the good will or services of us traders, occasions do happen
sometimes when, according to the old fable, the mouse can help the
lion."

He held the purse in his hand, and certainly his words were calculated
to make the acceptance of it palatable to me; yet I felt my cheek grow
hot as I took it, and I looked round towards the women and children
and the rest of the party, as if to see whether they were looking at
me.

In the mean while, Andriot and Moric Endem had been aiding the
merchant's wife and the women-servants to lay out the provisions on
the banks of the stream and, with all the facility of an old soldier.
Moric had cast down his steel cap, and was busily arranging the whole,
with many a dry jest between, and merry looks and careless laughter,
which made the women and the children soon forget the terror that had
seized them, and prevented them from even perceiving the extraordinary
ugliness of their gallant defender.

A huge cold capon, which he instantly christened "Monseigneur," was
placed in the midst of the little circle; manifold eggs were arranged
neatly around; various stores of salted provisions, chopped tongues,
lard and sausages, were spread out by his hands, with more taste than
one might have expected; and at length came two huge bottles of wine,
which he called the king and queen, with various attendants, for each
of which he had a name.

As we took our all places around, however, it was discovered suddenly
that the eggs, which were to form no inconsiderable part of the meal,
had not been cooked.

"We could soon cook them," cried Andriot, "for there's wood in the
world in the neighbourhood; but where are we to find wherewithal to
cook them in!"

"You get the wood, you get the wood, scapegrace," cried Moric; "run up
the hill and get the wood. You show how long you have been a soldier.
Don't you know that every man-at-arms carries a kettle on his head and
a frying-pan on his stomach? Get ye gone, and come back speedily, and
leave the cooking to me."

"Now we will put him in a fright for his polished morion," continued
Moric, after the youth had gone, at the same time collecting some dry
sticks and grass that lay about, and striking a light. "Susanne, my
pretty one," he continued, to one of the little girls, "I see some
branches lying there: go and fetch them, while I blow the fire up."

And, using his mouth for a pair of bellows, he had contrived to kindle
a strong flame by the time that Andriot and the girl had returned.
"Now, Andriot," he went on, "take off your morion, there's a good
youth; fill it with water out of the stream, and you shall see that we
will boil the eggs in a minute."

"Had I not better take yours, Master Moric?" said the young man, looking
somewhat ruefully at him.

Moric burst into a loud shout of laughter, in which all the rest of
the party joined. "Come, come," cried Moric, "since thou art stingy of
thy morion, Andriot, we will roast the eggs, though it is a difficult
task, and not to be undertaken by any but an old woman or an old
soldier.

"SONG.

   "There's an art in routing of eggs, there's an art in roasting of
      eggs;
    And he who would run before he can walk, must first learn to use
      his legs."


Thus sung Moric Endem, in a tolerably good voice, as he laid the eggs
in order among the hot wood-ashes. There was something very contagious
in the gay, careless merriment which my new follower displayed, and I
never beheld a meal pass more cheerfully than did ours of that day, by
the banks of the little stream. Moric's eggs proved to be excellent;
and of the wine, which was excellent also, he was permitted, in
recompense, to have his full share. It had no perceptible effect upon
him, however; more cheerful it could not make him, and his head was a
great deal too well seasoned to the juice of the grape for his
faculties to be disturbed by it.

Before we rose to go on our way, however, I produced the purse which I
had received from the merchant, and bestowed ten crowns from it upon
the old soldier, with the like sum upon Andriot. The eyes of both
glistened not a little at the treasure they had so rapidly acquired;
and the old soldier, starting up, drew me on one side, saying,

"That puts me in mind of something. Now, monseigneurs, I have got some
plunder, you know, to divide, which came out of that fellow's saddle.
We have said nothing yet about the way we intend to divide what we
get; but I will tell you what I saw tried in the last war, and which
is the best plan; namely, this, that everything which is brought in is
given up to the captain. Every week it is divided among the whole
band, the number of lots being just one more than the band, including
the captain. He has two lots, and every other man one. That makes each
man do his best for the whole, and see that others do the best too;
and the captain, who has a great many things to pay, and to do for us
all, has something to do it with, and a little more. Ransoms, however,
and compositions, and such things, are, of course, regulated
differently, according to the laws of arms, and each man keeps his
own. Also, of any plunder taken in a general battle, you know, a part
goes to the leader whose cornet we fight under; but only be sure, in
making terms with the general, that you get his authority for dealing
with your own men according to your own way, and bind yourself as
little as you can to the laws and regulations of other people."

"Somewhat freebooting advice, Master Moric," I replied, "though not
bad in some respects. But, nevertheless, you must remember that I have
honour and glory to gain, and to make a name for my band too, as well
as to gain money and plunder."

"The one's the way to do the other," replied Moric. "Your way to get
honour and renown for yourself and your band is to fight like a lion,
and make your men fight; and, depend upon it, every one fights ten
times as well when he thinks he is to get something for it, as when he
thinks that everything he takes is to be shared with the whole army."

There was some reason in what the man said, and I then proceeded to
consult him in regard to obtaining some new recruits as speedily as
possible.

"Oh! we shall find some at Jonsac," he said, "No doubt of it! The
people are arming all over the country, and few have yet taken service
with any one. All the daring fellows that are ready to eat fire and
brimstone served up hot out of a cannon's mouth, will choose some free
band such as ours, depend upon it, and we shall have our share, though
it's a pity you are not better known among the old soldiers. However,
my face will do you some good. People don't forget it when once they
have seen it; and the task of guarding these merchants will have its
effect too, for the men will think that there's something to be gained
at least, which is true too."

"Why, for that matter," I said, "you may give each known man that you
can meet with a couple of crowns as earnest, and promise them two more
at the end of our journey."

"Then we are safe enough, then we are safe enough!" cried Moric. "We
shall have plenty of men, depend upon it, and good men, too. There's
nothing like a bird in the hand--one of these yellow birds, I mean.
Why four crowns certain, to begin with! Four golden crowns! That is
enough to buy a Protestant count or a Catholic archbishop at any time.
But we had better not increase the band too much at first, sir; for if
you go with too many, you will either not save room for many of the
best men that we find straying about the camp, or else you'll have the
troop so large that some one of the leaders will be for having you
under his command altogether."

"Why, from your account, Moric," I said, "it seems to me that every
one does very much what he likes in the camp, whether he be under
command or not."

"There's some truth in that, sir," replied the man. "There's much
truth in that. Every man in the Protestant army does what he likes;
for, receiving no pay from any one but such as some of the lords give
their own men, no one has a right to say to another, do this or do
that, and it only happens every now and then that this sweet prince or
that charming general hangs one or two of his beloved volunteers, just
to prove that his authority is what it is not, and that he has some
power, when, in reality, he has none. Then among the Catholics it is
even worse; for, though they have the right, and the power too, if
they choose to exert it, yet every lord has his own will and his own
way; and from the king down to the valet, every one is afraid of
offending the man below him, and driving him to sing psalms in French
instead of Latin. But, at the same time, it is just as well to have
good authority for what one does; and a man who comes fresh to offer
his services, with ten or a dozen stout troopers at his back, may make
what bargain he likes, and the best bargain is the freest."

While this conversation and some more of a similar nature passed
between myself and Moric Endem, the merchants and their train were
preparing to pursue their journey, saddling their beasts, gathering
together various portions of their goods and chattels, which had been
unpacked to arrive at the provisions, and placing the women and
children on the horses destined to carry them.

I and my two followers mounted speedily to accompany them; and, when
everything was ready, we set out together, I entering now into my
first employ in arms as the guard and protector of a party of rich
merchants. I believe I fulfilled the task pretty well, and did not
suffer my inexperience to appear, at least to the eyes of any one but
Moric Endem. He, however, in the presence of our new companions,
showed the utmost deference to his leader; and a little incident which
happened at Jonsac tended, perhaps, to increase his respect fully as
much as the promptitude with which I had turned upon the enemy in the
morning.

We had arrived towards nightfall, and, sitting down in the public room
of the inn as usual, found at the other end of the table a somewhat
noisy and excited party of soldiery, that little town being then
entirely in the hands of the Protestants, and the inhabitants being
very generally arming to support the Admiral and the Prince de Condé.
Those who were at the end of the table were evidently raw to the
service, and of the very useful class of _pedescaux_ or foot soldiers.
One or two of them, also, seemed to have drunk a sufficient quantity
of wine to make them insolent. Taking upon myself the place that my
rank, both as a gentleman and as the leader of the whole party,
entitled me to, I advanced at once to the top of the table, and,
placing myself there, arranged the merchants and their families on
either side; and, to guard as well as possible against any annoyance,
I told Moric Endem to place himself at the end of the line on one
side, and Andriot on the other.

My precaution proved not in vain; for, after eying us for a few
moments, the conversation of the soldiery at the other end of the
table evidently turned upon us, and a great deal of laughter and
jesting took place, which made the colour come and go in the
merchants' cheeks. We had fallen well upon the hour of supper, so that
the last meal of the day was speedily set before us; but the laughing
of the others continued more loudly than before, and it seemed that
some of the elder and more experienced were busily engaged in
instigating a heavy looking burly youth of twenty or one-and-twenty to
do something to insult or annoy us.

At length I distinctly heard the words, "You dare not!" and the reply,
"I dare!" And, at the same time, the young man pushed the settle from
behind him, and walked up to the part of the table where we were
sitting. The women looked terrified over their shoulders; but the man,
without saying a word to any one, stooped over and lifted a dish, as
yet untouched, from before Martin Vern. Moric Endem, who was on the
other side, was instantly starting up, but I exclaimed in a tone of
authority, "Sit down, Moric Endem!"

"As you please, monseigneur," replied the man.

"Put down that dish instantly!" I said to the young man, who looked
somewhat aghast, either at his own daring, or at the monseigneur which
Moric Endem had given me. I was rising as I spoke, but the man
hesitated, while a loud laugh, evidently at his expense, burst from
his fellows below.

"Put down that dish!" I exclaimed again, in a voice that made the hall
echo; and, as he did not instantly obey, I struck him a single blow on
the head, which, coming from an arm well practised and not
particularly weak, stretched him at full length upon the floor, with
sauces and condiments floating round him. It luckily so happened that
the aubergiste himself was in the room at the moment, and, taking
instant advantage of the dead silence that ensued, I said, in as calm
a tone as possible, "Landlord, bring in another dish, and charge that
which is on the floor to those persons who are at the other end of the
table."

"Certainly, monseigneur! certainly!" replied the aubergiste, impressed
as much as I could desire by what had taken place; while I quietly
returned to my place and proceeded in carving the boiled beef, in
which I had been interrupted.

In the mean while my fallen friend raised himself up, glanced at me
for a moment with uncertain rage, of which I took not the slightest
notice, and then returning to his companions, spoke a word or two
sullenly to them. They laughed, but in a much lower tone than before;
and a brief and muttered consultation seemed to be held, while the
landlord brought in a new dish and deposited it before Martin Vern. As
the landlord passed them, however, one of them beckoned him up and
asked him something in a whisper, and I could then hear my own name
passing from mouth to mouth, with various additions and improvements
at the fancy of the retailers, as, "The Seigneur de Cerons!" "The
Count de Cerons!" "The celebrated Count de Cerons!" "The Seigneur de
Cerons, colonel-general of the infantry!"

It was clear, however, that the whole party--whether these additions
had been made by the magnifying powers of Moric Endem when he
announced my name to the host or not--it was clear that the whole
party were now determined to look upon me as a very great man, and to
make that an excuse to themselves for sneaking away without taking any
farther notice of the chastisement inflicted on their companion.
Accordingly, after hesitating and looking doubtful, and whispering for
several minutes more, one by one disappeared through the doorway, and
we were left in possession of the hall to discuss our supper in
tranquillity.

I should not have mentioned the subject at all in conversation with my
companions, but both Martin Vern and his nephew talked of it, laughing
as soon as the others were gone, and, while they loaded me with thanks
and praises, made many a shrewd and jesting comment upon the
pusillanimity of the departed. It had another effect, however, for the
landlord's voice was heard several times without, talking loud to
different persons; and, from two or three words that could be
distinguished, I found that he was thus loud in my praise. When, at
length, he was putting some dessert upon the table before us, he spoke
to me in a whisper, saying that there were without two or three
gentlemen who had served in the last war, who had taken arms again,
and were very anxious to know whether I could and would receive them
into my company.

I replied, "That I could not leave the party I was escorting, but that
I would send my lieutenant," by which sonorous name I dignified good
Moric Endem, to speak with them at once; choosing, in such a case, to
trust to his judgment much sooner than to my own. The result was, that
he engaged for me five stout fellows as ever were seen, of whom he had
known something in the preceding wars, and who also had the advantage
of coming to me with horses, arms, and accoutrements complete. The
whole of this was settled during that evening, and the joy and
satisfaction which I myself might feel at my growing importance was
far outdone by that of good Martin Vern and his companions, who now
thought themselves perfectly competent to encounter any Catholic force
in the neighbourhood. Two more, but not exactly of such good stuff,
were added to our number at Barbezieux, and, thus forming a troop of
ten men, we advanced on the road to Angoulême, as far, or perhaps
farther, than it was prudent so to do.

We had heard that the Prince de Condé and the rest were at that time
at the town of Sainctes; but a few miles on the other side of
Barbezieux we learned that the army had marched in a different
direction, and had apparently quitted the Charente. News, too, was
heard, that the Catholic garrison of St. Jean d'Angely had sent out
considerable detachments into the country on the side of Pons, while
light-armed troops from Angoulême were scouring the fields in every
direction, for the purpose, it was supposed, of supplying the city in
case of siege.

In conversing over these affairs, which certainly bore a somewhat
menacing aspect, with Martin Vern, I found that he was determined to
proceed with his nephew and his partner to the camp of the Prince de
Condé, but was in a state of very considerable alarm on account of his
wife and children. Under these circumstances, I advised him strongly
to despatch messengers to the Duke of Montpensier, who was at that
time, we understood, at St. Junien, in order to demand a safe conduct
for his family, which would immediately be given on his declaring them
to be all Catholics. He seized at the proposal eagerly; a messenger
was easily found, and set out with directions to pass on the other
side of Angoulême on his return, and to meet us at Cognac, whither we
now bent our steps with slow and cautious journeys. Cognac we found in
the hands of a small Protestant force, and we then first learned that
the siege of Angoulême by the Prince de Condé had actually begun.

The rest of our journey, then, would have been easily completed, even
without the safe conduct; but, as Martin Vern was aware he should have
to return to Bordeaux himself at all events, he judged it best to wait
for the safe conduct in the suburb of Cognac, and to send the women of
his party on at once to Paris, as it was impossible to say what turn
the war might take.

Though the Protestant force would not admit the soldiery within the
limits of their little garrison, I there made the acquaintance of
several officers and gentlemen attached to the Protestant cause, and
became still farther acquainted practically with the habits of a camp
and an army. Though I had now under my command several good and
experienced soldiers, yet Moric Endem was my chief adviser, and I was
glad to find myself justified to the full in having trusted him so far
by the opinions and commendation of all the military men with whom I
was brought in contact. Every one laughed when his name was mentioned,
but every one also declared that he was as brave as a lion, and might
with safety be fully trusted by those who chose to trust him fully.
Those who chose to show him, on the contrary, either unkindness or
want of confidence, would need, they said, the eyes of Argus to
prevent the old soldier from finding some means of retribution. He was
now fully and completely established as my lieutenant; but he was as
jealous of his leader's reputation and authority as his own, and
presumed in no degree upon his new station. The short time we spent at
Cognac gave me an opportunity of becoming more thoroughly acquainted
with my men, and of making them generally aware of my views and
purposes.

At length, with the interval of one day, the safe conduct arrived,
and, with many embraces and some tears, good Martin Vern saw his wife
and children depart for Paris. An hour or two after they were gone, we
ourselves commenced our march; and, just as evening was setting in,
saw the high hill of Angoulême rising above the lesser slopes that
border the Charente.




CHAPTER VII.


It was night when we reached the outposts of the Prince de Condé's
camp, and we were stopped by a small body of soldiers, who demanded
the sign, which, of course, we could not give. Our errand was soon
explained, however, and we were led on into the camp, which was not
entrenched, nor, indeed, defended in any other way. It presented a
gay, mixed scene, where little regularity of any kind existed, except
in the lines of the tents, which resembled long streets when once one
had passed the skirts of the camp, where plenty of disorder was going
on. My followers and horses were left at the second guard, while I and
the merchants were led on foot through the canvass streets and squares
to the spot where the tent of the Prince de Condé was pitched. Though
certainly not a very convenient dwelling, It was divided into two
chambers, if not three, and we were detained in the outer one while
the prince was informed of our arrival.

The pride of arms and birth made me imagine that I should be called to
his presence immediately, though we found he was at supper; but I was
much disappointed, for the merchants were much more important people
at that moment in the eyes of the prince than any small leader like
myself, and they were ushered in immediately, while I remained
without, talking with one of the prince's attendants, who remained
sitting with me, as if in the antechamber.

The conference of the Protestant leader with the merchants seemed
interminably long, and the occasional laughter and merriment that I
heard made me think that the conversation was protracted after all
real business was over. At length, however, they came out, and I was
summoned into the presence of the prince, while Martin Vern, in
passing, said, "We will wait for you here."

I found the prince still seated at supper, with a man considerably
older than himself, though yet in the prime of life. Condé's
countenance was remarkably handsome; far more so, indeed, than his
figure; and there was in his eyes that sort of sparkling impetuosity
which well indicated the character of the man. He received me with a
smiling countenance, and made me take a seat near him, saying,

"It is always pleasant, Monsieur de Cerons, to receive new friends and
companions, but still more pleasant to receive one who bears back to
our camp an illustrious name, which has been too long banished from
the roll of arms. I take it for granted I speak to the son of that
Monsieur de Cerons who, just twenty years ago, distinguished himself
in the attack upon the forts at Boulogne, and, to the regret of the
whole army, fell upon the occasion. I grieve to say that I knew little
of him, for that was my first campaign, and I was not worthy of the
notice of so distinguished a soldier; but my friend, Monsieur
d'Andelot here, was his companion in many a well-fought field."

"I was indeed, young gentleman," said D'Andelot; "and, I must say, a
better soldier or a braver man never existed. You are very like him,
and, I trust, are as like him in character as you are in person."

"It is with the hope of proving that I am so, sir, that I come here,"
I replied; and, judging it more respectful to the distinguished
officers with whom I was speaking to say as little as possible, I
ceased there.

"I doubt not that you will completely fill his place among us,"
replied the prince, after a moment's thought. "Indeed, Monsieur de
Cerons, we have every reason to believe so, from the account these
good merchants have given us of your conduct on the road. You do not
know what an obligation you have laid upon us by bringing them safely
hither; for, on my faith and honour, I think, without their help, we
should not have been able to carry on the campaign: for, though very
one here fights for good-will, yet men must have food, and cannons and
arquebuses are poor contrivances without powder and shot. These
merchants tell us you have a troop with you, Monsieur de Cerons?"

I now evidently saw that it was the design of the prince to give me
notice, in a quiet, passing manner, that I was to expect no pay for my
services, and, at the same time, to ascertain with what views and
purposes I came.

"My troop is not a large one, my lord," I replied; "at present it
comprises but ten men. They are all, however, stout men-at-arms, and
have some experience; and I hope to increase my troop to double that
number. It is fit, my lord, however, that I should tell you that my
father left nothing but his sword; and it is needful to myself that I
should raise myself by arms, and to my men that I should be enabled to
maintain them by the sword."

"Ay," replied the prince, "I understand--make the horse feed the
horse. But it is somewhat difficult to know what to do. We cannot and
must not drive away such bands as yours, especially when led by such a
gentleman as yourself. As little can we expect them to range
themselves under any regular leader, when we have no pay whatever to
give them; and yet it is absolutely necessary that both I myself and
Monsieur de Coligny should put a stop to everything like
indiscriminate plunder. Were we not to do so, we should soon have the
whole country rising upon us."

"I am not one, my lord," I replied, "to wish that it should be
otherwise. All I wish is, that, in order to keep my men together, I
may have, as it were, a detached command of my own people under your
highness's commission, in order that, by fair war against the enemy in
arms, I may be enabled to maintain my troop and advance myself.
Neither the threshold of the cottage nor the hearth of the citizen
shall ever be invaded by my people. I only want permission to attack
the enemy whenever I can find occasion, and to cut off from him, as my
legitimate prize, whatever I can meet with."

"That is soon granted," replied the Prince de Condé, "if we understand
each other rightly. But what is that in your hand, Monsieur de Cerons?
It seems a letter."

"I had forgotten it, my lord," I said; "it is one addressed to your
highness on my behalf, I believe."

The prince took it and read it, and then turning with a smile to
D'Andelot, he said, "We shall have Stuart with us in less than ten
days; and he does more service, you know, than any ten besides. Now,
Monsieur de Cerons. My friend Stuart here has explained all your plans
more clearly than yourself; and, indeed, it is not always so easy to
explain one's self as to let another do it. I fear very much, however,
that you have attached yourself to the wrong side of the question, as
far as obtaining wealth, at least, is concerned. You shall have,
however, what seamen, I believe, call a roving commission; and on the
following terms, remember. During all marches, countermarches, and on
general service, you shall have the opportunity allowed you, as far as
possible, of doing as you please. At other times, such as the eve of a
general battle, the assault of a town, or any similar operation, you
shall render yourself into the camp on due notice given you. In short,
any special order given to you by me or by the Admiral de Coligny you
shall obey as strictly as any other soldier; but, at the times when
you are without any such orders, you shall not be called to account
for anything you do at your own hand; with these provisos, that you
shall neither commit, nor suffer to be committed by your people, any
outrage upon, or pillage of, the peasantry of the country, that you
shall neither exact contributions from villages, hamlets, or places
friendly or unarmed, nor permit any plunder in towns taken by
capitulation; and, in fact, shall only wage honourable war against
enemies with arms in their hands. Nor shall you receive money called
_pati_, or sufferance, from any persons whatsoever. On these
conditions, all prizes whatsoever captured by yourself shall be at
your own disposal, without claim or intervention from any persons
whatsoever. This is all that can be done for you, and, if it suits
you, it shall be done."

"It suits me perfectly, my lord," I replied; "I require nothing more;
and, as far as in me lies, will never be absent from my post when my
services may be wanted."

Some farther conversation ensued between the prince, D'Andelot, and
myself, in which a great many other matters were settled with regard
to my lodging in the camp, &c.; and, sending for his secretary, the
Prince de Condé gave orders for the commission to be drawn up, which
was immediately done, giving me authority to raise a company of fifty
men, and imbodying all the stipulations contained above.

As soon as I had received it I rose to depart; but D'Andelot, after
whispering for a moment to the prince, said, "It always gives an
officer great honour, Monsieur de Cerons, to begin his career in any
new service with some brilliant exploit. Now we propose to-morrow to
attack the breach at Angoulême, which has been made by our batteries
yesterday and to-day. Now the leading of this assault has been given
to Monsieur de Genissac; but we have no doubt that he will suffer you
to be his companion, if you choose to mount the breach among the first
along with your men. The breach is in the wall of what is called the
Park; but we will send Genissac to you in the course of to-morrow
morning. You will be supported by the regiment of Monsieur de
Corbouson; and you are to remember to obey promptly the orders you
receive from that quarter."

It may well be supposed that, eager as I was to distinguish myself, I
caught at the offer without hesitation. In this instance I had not the
slightest fears in regard to my own inexperience, for I knew that I
had nothing to do but to fight with courage and determination; and,
having ascertained the hour the assault was likely to take place, I
retired to seek the quarters assigned to me, which were in one of the
little suburbs, as I had informed the prince that I had yet no tents
with me.

In the anteroom I found the worthy merchants, and with them returned
to the spot where I had left my men. As we went, Martin Vern informed
me that he was to return to Bordeaux early on the following morning,
and asked if he could execute any commission for me in that city, from
which he was about to return again in ten or twelve days. He said
nothing more at that time, but accompanied me to the little auberge in
the suburb, after I had lodged my troopers as I had been directed. I
found the hall of the inn, as may well be conceived, a scene of
confusion almost indescribable. At first it seemed to me that
everybody was talking, everybody was singing, everybody was drinking,
and everybody was snuffing the candles, at the same time. Eyes
swimming with excitement or dropping with sleepiness, faces heated and
flushed with drink, mouths wide open with oaths, vociferations, or
songs, and outstretched arms, crossing each other in various
directions, were to be seen on every side, while the din and uproar
were absolutely deafening.

The scene did not seem to strike the merchants as much as it did me;
but Martin Vern turned out of that room again almost as soon as he had
entered it, saying, "We shall doubtless find less confusion somewhere
else;" and, after looking into the kitchen, in hopes that, protected
by the awful genius of the culinary art, that place might be found
somewhat more quiet, he mounted the stairs, and walked from bedroom to
bedroom, which had all been turned into eating or drinking rooms, and
which were, in most instances, crammed to the very doors.

At length we came to one large room, which might contain, perhaps, not
more than twenty people, ranged at different tables, and enjoying
themselves more soberly. The secret of this was, that the tenants were
all inferior officers, and the common soldiery judged it more
expedient to pursue their potations in other rooms. The officers, too,
might perhaps themselves desire a little quiet; and I remarked that
several of them looked up and scanned us closely, as if to satisfy
themselves that the intruders were likely to be more quiet and orderly
than the parties assembled in other places.

There was one table vacant, near a window, at the very farther end of
the room, and at that we seated ourselves, glad to be as far as
possible from the general roar that rushed up the stairs and through
the passages. A boy, who was running from table to table with the
activity of a marmoset, came up to inquire what we wished for supper;
and, as soon as he had left us, Master Vern leaned across the table,
and asked me,

"Now, Monsieur de Cerons, have you no commands for Bordeaux? for I
have many things to do, and, perhaps, may not have the opportunity of
speaking to you to-morrow."

After thinking for a moment or two, I replied that I feared there was
no commission that I could give; that I longed, indeed, to hear of my
relations at the Chateau de Blancford, but did not know how to compass
it.

"That is easily done, Monsieur de Cerons," said the merchant; "I am
going to the Chateau de Blancford myself. There is scarcely a noble in
the land that we merchants have not something to do with. The baron
must have reached the chateau by this time, for he was to leave Paris
in three weeks after we did. Come, come, Monsieur de Cerons," he said,
seeing that I hesitated, "I have many a time remarked, since you were
with us, that something weighs upon your mind. We owe you a great
deal, not only for good service, but for kindness. Sit down and write
a few lines to your friends, and we will find means that you shall
have an answer. Relieve your mind, my friend; relieve your mind by
words. Depend upon it, the best remedy for a heavy heart is to cast
off part of the load upon paper."

"But I have no means of writing here," I said, "and fear it will be
difficult to procure them."

"What! a merchant without paper and ink?" cried Martin Vern, opening a
pocket in the lining of his cloak, and taking out all the requisites:
"That would never do. There, Monsieur de Cerons, write, write, and I
will take care it shall reach its address."

I took the paper and pen that he gave me, and, with the first impulse
of my heart, wrote a few lines to my cousin Louise. The terms in which
I spoke were precisely such as I should have used before my departure.
I bade her not forget me, nor the affection which had existed between
us ever since our childhood. I bade her recall me to the remembrance
of her brothers and La Tour. I told her that I should never forget or
cease to love her and them; and I assured her that nothing but
absolute necessity, and the fear of giving them all bitter pain, would
have led me to quit them without bidding them adieu, as I had done.
This led me to speak of my situation at the time, and I told her that
I had met with much greater success than I could have expected; that I
was already at the head of a small band: and that I was to lead, in
company with another, the assault upon Angoulême on the following
morning. A few words of affection and kindness succeeded, and, having
folded and sealed the letter, I put the address upon it, and gave it
into the hands of Martin Vern.

He looked at the address, and when he saw the name, a sober and
somewhat melancholy smile came over his face, and, putting it up
carefully, he said, "It shall go safe."

Shortly after this the head of Moric Endem made its appearance at the
door, and, seeing me seated at the opposite table, he entered the room
and came across towards me. Ere he was half way to the table, however,
three or four of the different officers who were dining at the tables
around started up, and one of them exclaimed, "Why, Moric Endem! what,
you old comrade, is it you come back to join us? and looking fat and
well-feathered too."

"Ay, my good friends; ay, ay," said Moric, "here I am; but I am in
leading-strings, my boys, I am in leading-strings. I'm baby Moric now,
and there's my nurse--my captain, I mean to say; so I must go and
speak to him, for I have a word for his ear."

"If he seeks to fill his purse," said one, looking at me across the
room, "you're the man for him; for you could always fill a purse, but
never keep one."

"Too true, good friend, too true," replied Moric, advancing towards
me; "but I will do better this time."

They all shook their heads, however, with laugh; and Moric came on and
sat down beside me. He had lost no time in pursuing his avocations,
and informed me that he had already seen and spoken with nearly twenty
of his old comrades, who were h

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