"The castle shut up!" I cried in astonishment. "Well, go on with the story; it promises plenty of interest."

"Shortly after your departure, monsieur, many rumours spread abroad.

Some said one thing, some mother; but no one knew the truth. Then, one night, your father sent for me to the castle. He ordered me to watch for your return, and to tell you he had gone to Roch.e.l.le. Not another word, monsieur, except that you were to join him, and to keep out of the way of the king's troops."

"This is strange news!" I said.

"Your father must have gone away that night, monsieur, for next day the castle was deserted. And it was well he did not stay longer," the old man concluded, with a wise shake of the head.

"Why?" I asked anxiously.

"The next night, monsieur, we were roused from sleep by the tramping of soldiers. I ran to the window and looked out. There were more than two hundred of them marching through the village. On arriving at the castle, they found they were too late. Their leader was very angry; he raved like a madman."

"Did you go to listen to him?"

"No, monsieur, he slept here at the inn. The next day he had all the villagers drawn up outside, and made them a grand speech. Had it not been for his soldiers, I think he would not have left the village alive."

"Then he made the good folk angry?"

"Monsieur, it was terrible. He said the Sieur Le Blanc was a traitor to the king, that he had harboured one of the king's enemies, and that his life was forfeit to the law. Any man was to shoot him like a dog. He said all this, monsieur, and more, much more. Then he called in the leading men one by one, and questioned them closely, but they knew nothing."

"He should have asked you, Pierre."

"He did, monsieur, but he said I was a stupid dolt, with no more sense than one of my own casks!" and the old man broke into a hearty laugh.

"You had a guest the night I went away; he left early in the morning.

Who was he?"

"I do not know, monsieur. He was a stranger who wished to learn all he could about the chief folk in the district; but he was an enemy to the Cause, and he did not carry away much information. Old Pierre was too dense to understand his questions," and the old man chuckled again.

"Well," I said after a pause, "since it is useless going to the castle, I must put up here for the night. I am tired and hungry. Get me some supper and a bed; meanwhile I must attend to my horse; the poor beast has carried me far."

Pierre's information was very disquieting, but, as my father had evidently received timely warning, I trusted he had effected his escape, and that by this time he was safely sheltered behind the strong walls of La Roch.e.l.le.

When Pierre brought in the supper I asked after Jacques, and, hearing he had not returned, told the landlord to inform him of what had happened.

Whether he would endeavour to get into Roch.e.l.le or not I left to himself.

I ate my supper slowly, my mind fully occupied with this extraordinary occurrence. Why had my father thus suddenly been marked down for vengeance? He was a noted Huguenot, 'twas true, but he was not a leader such as Conde or the Admiral. He had sheltered the wounded messenger, and had allowed me to carry the warning to Tanlay.

This, of course, was sufficient to incur the Queen-Mother's displeasure; but how had the knowledge reached her? Who was there at Le Blanc able and willing to betray our secrets? Not a soul, unless----! Ah, the name leaped of itself into my mind. Who was the maker of mischief but Etienne Cordel?

I put together all that I had heard of this man whom Jacques detested so thoroughly. He was a lawyer, who, by some means, had ama.s.sed wealth and lands. Numerous stories, all evil, were related of him, and it was rumoured that he had long served as a useful tool to persons in high places. At least he had prospered exceedingly in some mysterious manner, and it was said he had been promised a patent of n.o.bility. I called for Pierre, and asked if he had heard anything fresh lately of this upstart lawyer.

"No, monsieur," he answered, "Cordel had gone away before the soldiers came, and he has not yet returned. He went hurriedly, after a visit from the cavalier who slept here. Monsieur does not think----"

"For the present I think nothing, Pierre. I am tired and will go to bed.

Get me an early breakfast, so that I can proceed on my journey in the cool of the morning."

Of what use were my suspicions, even if I proved them to be correct? The mischief was done, and I could not undo it. My father was a fugitive from his home, to which he dared not return, and it only remained for me to join him.

I went to bed, and, in spite of my anxiety, was soon asleep, for the long journey from Noyers had been both tedious and fatiguing. Pierre called me early, and while the village still slumbered I set forth.

"Monsieur goes to Roch.e.l.le?" asked the old man, as I vaulted lightly into the saddle.

"Yes, at present I intend going to Roch.e.l.le."

"It is said here that the war has begun again."

"If it has not, it soon will, Pierre, and when it is finished, the Sieur Le Blanc will once more be master of his castle."

"Heaven grant it, monsieur," said he earnestly, as I rode off.

The state of the country west of Le Blanc was even more deplorable than what I had seen during my journey to Tanlay. The fields were bare both of corn and of cattle; the villagers were starving; the people of the towns went about in fear and trembling; the king's troops robbed as they pleased without restraint.

At Poictiers I found the citizens in a state of dangerous excitement.

Armed bands, some Huguenots, some Catholics, patrolled the streets, singing and shouting, and uttering threats of vengeance. Fearful of being mixed up in these disturbances, I alighted before the door of the first decent inn, gave my horse to the ostler, and entered.

"Your streets are a trifle dangerous for a peaceful traveller," I remarked to the landlord, who showed me to a room.

"What would you, monsieur?" he asked, with a shrug of the shoulders; "the times are evil. These miserable heretics disturb the whole country with their senseless brawls. But the mischief will be stamped out before long."

"How?" I said. "Has not the king granted them the privilege of worshipping in their own way?"

"Ah, monsieur, that was meant but for a time. The Queen-Mother will make a clean sweep of their rights as soon as she has power enough. And it is said," here he lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, "that a royal army is already marching from Paris. But monsieur is hungry?"

"Hungry and thirsty both," I replied. "What is that?" for the sounds of angry voices came from the outside.

"It is nothing, monsieur; some one has drawn a knife, perhaps, and there is a little fighting, but that is all. One does not regard these things," and he hurried off to prepare my meal.

After leaving Poictiers, I avoided the towns as much as possible, though travelling in the country districts was nearly as hazardous. The peasants having no work, and being without food, had formed themselves into robber bands, and more than once I owed my safety to the fleetness of my horse.

However, on the evening of the second day, I reached Roch.e.l.le, just as the gates were being closed. The streets were filled with citizens and Huguenot soldiers, and it was apparent that the ill.u.s.trious fugitives had arrived safely at their stronghold.

Being a stranger to the city I rode slowly along the street, noting the houses, and scanning the people closely, on the chance of discovering a familiar face. In all my solitary wanderings I had not felt as lonely as I did now, amidst a seething crowd of my fellow-creatures.

The first thing, of course, was to find my father, but on coming to the _Hotel Coligny_, I resolved to dismount and to seek out Felix Bellievre.

Fortunately, he was within, and I received a hearty welcome, which caused me to feel once more as if I belonged to the world of human beings.

"Faith, Edmond," he cried cheerily, "the gra.s.s has not grown under your feet! I did not expect you until to-morrow, at the earliest."

"One does not care to linger around an empty nest," I replied moodily.

"Empty only for a short time, I hope. Do not look so astonished. I have seen your father. More than that, I have been presented to your sister.

Already I am a friend of the family! I will conduct you to the house, if you wish. Come, I have plenty of leisure, and you will serve as an excellent excuse for my visit."

"How did you happen to become acquainted with my father?" I asked, as we walked along.

"In the simplest way imaginable, my dear Edmond. He called to pay his respects to the Admiral; being on duty at the time, I heard his name, and made myself known as your friend. He was eager to hear news of you, and carried me off. I met your sister, and you will not be surprised that within twenty-four hours I was repeating my visit. You see there were so many things to tell her about yourself," and he laughed roguishly.

"Are they depressed by what has happened?"