"I shall not stay here long; I shall sail to our colony in America, where one can at least worship G.o.d in peace."

"Yes," he said musingly, "you can do that"; and then as if the thought had but just occurred to him, "it will be a terribly rough life for Jeanne--I mean for your sister."

"I had forgotten Jeanne. Well, that plan must be given up."

"There is one way out of the difficulty," he continued, coming finally to the point toward which he had been leading. "I am rich, and my own master. I have a good estate in England."

"Yes," I said, leaving him, rather ungenerously, to flounder through as best he could.

"I love your sister," he blurted out. "I wish to make her my wife. Do you object to having me for a brother, Edmond?"

Now, I was very fond of my English friend; he was a gallant gentleman, and the soul of honour. To be quite frank, I had once hoped that Jeanne would marry Felix, but he, poor fellow, was dead.

I gave Roger my hand, saying, "There is no one living to whom I would rather trust my sister's happiness. Besides, that gets rid of all our difficulties at once. With you to protect Jeanne, I can carry out my plans."

"Not so fast, Edmond," he interposed. "Jeanne is willing to be my wife, but she is not willing to part from you. She still blames herself for leaving you in Paris, though that, of course, is nonsense. She could not have done you any good."

"Most probably, had she stayed, both of us would have been killed.

However, to return to our point; I cannot ask you to cross the ocean with us."

"It is unnecessary," said he, smiling cheerfully; "I can ask you to cross the Channel with me. No, don't speak yet. The scheme has several advantages. You will be out of Cordel's way, and yet close at hand.

Things are bound to change. The king may die, or Henry of Navarre may obtain greater influence. He cannot be kept a prisoner all his life, and the time may come when he is once more at the head of an army. That will be your opportunity. A few days will take you across the water, and with Navarre as your friend--for he is not likely to go back on his pledged word--you can hope for justice."

"There is something in that," I said thoughtfully.

"There is everything, my dear fellow. Now, on the other hand, by sailing to the New World, you will cut yourself off from France for ever; and lose all chance of regaining your estates. The rascally lawyer will be left to enjoy his stolen property in peace."

This was an argument that touched me nearly, and Roger, perceiving the effect it produced, harped upon it so strongly that at last I agreed to accompany him to his English home. There was, however, still my servant to be considered, but Roger declared merrily there was plenty of room for Jacques, who should be given the charge of the stables.

"And," added the generous fellow, "I shall be the gainer by that, for he is a splendid judge of horses!" which was perfectly true.

I had a talk with Jacques the same evening and asked him to give me his opinion freely on the subject. The honest fellow did not hesitate an instant.

"Go with Monsieur Braund by all means," said he. "As long as the King of Navarre remains a prisoner you can do nothing, but directly he is free you will have a chance of settling accounts with this Cordel. To go to the New World will be to acknowledge yourself beaten."

"You are right, Jacques," I said; "we will stay in England, and bide our time."

"It will come, monsieur, be a.s.sured of that; and then let Etienne Cordel look out for himself."

We were still talking about the lawyer when Roger came in, bringing a note that had been left by a stranger at the _Hotel Coligny_. It was addressed to me, and I recognized the handwriting immediately.

"'Tis from L'Estang," I said; "what can he have to say?"

"Open it and see," suggested Roger merrily, "that is the easiest way of finding out!"

The contents were brief, but they made me bite my lips hard. "Cordel has been granted the Le Blanc estates, and in all likelihood a patent of n.o.bility will be made out in a few weeks. His a.s.sa.s.sins are still seeking for you."

"Well," said Roger, "as it happens, they will seek in vain, and when they do find you, they may be sorry for the discovery."

Now that my decision was made, I felt anxious to get away, hoping that new scenes and new faces might blunt the misery which L'Estang's letter had caused me. Roger was also desirous to return immediately, and, as there was a vessel timed to sail in a few days, he arranged that we should take our pa.s.sage in her.

It was a beautiful September morning when we went on board, and as the ship moved slowly from the harbour I took a sad farewell of my fair but unhappy country. Stronger men might have laughed at my weakness, but my eyes were dim as, leaning over the vessel's side, I watched the receding sh.o.r.e. Who could foretell if I should ever behold my own land again?

"Courage, monsieur!" whispered Jacques; "we shall return."

"Yes," I replied, with a sudden glow of confidence, "we shall return; let us hold fast by that!"

L'ENVOI.

My story as I set out to tell it really ends on the day when the _White Rose_ left the harbour of Roch.e.l.le, but those who have followed my fortunes thus far may not take it amiss if I relate very briefly the upshot of my adventures.

Concerning Jeanne and her English husband there is little to tell.

Happy, it is said, is the country that has no history, and their lives were one long happiness, pa.s.sed in their beautiful home, surrounded by friends, and blessed by the presence of little children.

For four years I stayed with them, until, indeed, the joyful news of Henry's escape from Paris sent me, accompanied by the faithful Jacques, in hot haste to France, where the offer of my services was gladly accepted by the great Huguenot chief.

"The dawn is long in coming, Le Blanc," he said kindly; "but it will come at last."

It would take too long to tell you of the years of strife, of our marches and countermarches, of our defeats and victories, of how we changed from hope to despair, and from despair to hope, until on that memorable field of Ivri we smote our enemies hip and thigh, and broke the League that had brought so much misery on the country.

It was at Ivri, right at the moment of triumph, I lost Jacques, who, through good and ill, had followed my fortunes with a loyalty and devotion that no man ever exceeded, and fell just when I had the power to reward his services.

Renaud L'Estang I rarely met after my return. He served his patron faithfully and well, and on Anjou's death joined the household of the Duke of Guise, who held him in high esteem. He was, I believe, slain in one of the numerous skirmishes, but even that I learned only by hearsay.

In spite of my vaunts and boastings Etienne Cordel enjoyed his ill-gotten gains for several years, and then it was not to me, but to a higher judge he had to render his account.

But when Henry of Navarre became King of France, the estates of Le Blanc were restored to their rightful owner, and in the old castle to-day, hung in the place of honour, is the sword which Henry gave me at Arnay-le-Duc, and on which he has graciously caused to be inscribed, "From Henry of Navarre to the Sieur Le Blanc."