"Not in the least; they regard it as a trial of their faith; but here we are at the house. I fear you will not see your estimable aunt; she is an invalid, and keeps strictly to her own rooms. Ah, here is one of the servants; let him attend to your animal, and I will announce you. Your sister will fall on your neck and embrace you. Do you think it possible for us to change parts for a few minutes?"

He was still laughing and talking in his madcap way when a door opened, and my father came towards us.

"Edmond!" he cried, on seeing me, "now this is indeed bright sunshine gleaming through the dark clouds. Monsieur Bellievre, you are doubly welcome, for your own sake and for what you bring with you!"

The memory of the pleasant evening that followed I treasured for many years. I sat beside my mother, my hand clasped in hers, telling her the story of my adventures. Jeanne was full of high spirits, while Felix was simply overflowing with wit and good-humoured drollery.

The only drawback to our enjoyment was the absence of the trusted Jacques, but even that was slight, as he was not seriously wounded, and from the household of the n.o.ble Count St. Cyr he was certain to receive every attention.

Nothing was said that evening about the visit of the troops to Le Blanc, but the next morning I had a long talk with my father on the subject. I told him what I had learned from old Pierre, and also my suspicions concerning Etienne Cordel.

"The advocate is a scheming rogue," he said, "who bears me no goodwill because I have laughed at his pretensions to be considered our equal. He is in the pay of Monseigneur, and he has acted as a spy on those of the Religion; but, unless he heard of the affair of the letter, he could do me no harm."

"He must have heard of it from the stranger with whom we travelled," I declared. "Jacques distrusted him from the first, and believed he was one of those who attacked Devine. Did he recover?"

"Yes; he is in Roch.e.l.le, fretting and fuming at having been prevented from fulfilling his mission. But to return to our own affairs. Have you considered what this proclamation means?"

"That your life is in danger."

"A bagatelle, Edmond. It has been in danger these many years. There is something far more serious. As a traitor to the king, my estates are forfeit, and you will grow up to see another man master of the land which by right is yours. It is a heavy price for you to pay, my boy."

Now I hold it folly to pretend that this caused me no grief, but I was young and enthusiastic, and sensible enough to know that any sign of sorrow would add to my father's unhappiness. So I looked straight into his eyes and said brightly, "Others have paid a heavy price for their faith without murmuring; I am strong enough to do the same."

He held me in his arms and kissed my cheeks, saying: "Now G.o.d bless and reward you for those brave words, my son," and never before in all my life had I seen him so deeply moved.

CHAPTER VI

The Unknown Cavalier

My father had already accepted the Admiral's kind offer, so, after a few days of idleness, I began my new duties, meeting with a genial reception from my future comrades, several of whom were but a little older than myself.

Every day now some fresh note of alarm sounded. The king withdrew the privileges he had granted to those of the Religion, and from several quarters we learned that civil war in all but the name had broken out afresh. It was said, too, that the king had given command of the royal army to his brother, the Duke of Anjou, with orders to exterminate us, root and branch.

"Anjou!" laughed my comrade, "why, he is only a boy! He should be doing his lessons. Has the king provided him with a nurse?"

"Yes," I replied, "he will find Marshal Tavannes a very capable nurse."

"Oh, that is the way of it, eh? Faith, 'tis a good plan, for, see you, Edmond, if there be any glory 'twill go to Anjou, while Tavannes can take the discredit. A capital arrangement--that is, from Monseigneur's point of view!"

Meanwhile numbers of Huguenot gentlemen with their retainers were arriving at Roch.e.l.le, and our leaders were soon able to muster a respectable little army.

"Anjou must make haste if he wishes to cover himself with glory," said Felix one morning. "The Queen of Navarre will be here to-morrow, bringing four thousand Bearnese with her. They are st.u.r.dy fellows and splendid fighters."

"There is another item of news," I said. "The English queen is sending money and guns!"

"Ah," responded my comrade, "the English are stupid! Why don't they join us boldly? We are fighting for the same object, and against the same enemy. For, mark you, Edmond, our real foes are Spain and the Pope, which these English will find out one of these days! If we get beaten, it will be their turn next."

We gave the brave Queen of Navarre and her troops a right royal reception, but to me the most interesting figure in the procession was her son, Henry, on whom in the years to come the hopes of so many Frenchmen were centred. He was quite a boy, only fifteen years old, but he had a strong and capable face, full of fire and energy. His hair had a reddish tinge, his skin was brown but clear, and he had well-shaped regular features. His eyes had a sweet expression, and when he smiled his whole face lit up with animation. He sat his horse with extreme grace, and responded to the plaudits of the crowd with courtly bows.

"A gallant lad!" exclaimed Felix delightedly. "He has the makings of a soldier, and in a year or two will be a tower of strength to us."

The talk now among the younger men was of moving out from Roch.e.l.le, scattering the Royalists, marching on Paris, and dictating peace in the palace. It was astonishing how easy these things appeared to be, as we sat and gossiped idly in the Admiral's ante-chamber! Fortunately, however, our leaders, being in possession of cooler heads and clearer brains, decided otherwise, and when winter came, making a campaign impossible, we were still inside the walls.

During the autumn we were joined by a troop of English gentlemen, about a hundred strong, under the leadership of one named Henry Champernoun.

They were mostly young, of good birth and family, very gallant fellows, and as eager to fight as the most headstrong of us.

With one of them--Roger Braund, a lad about the same age as Felix--we soon became very friendly. He was fair and handsome, with sparkling blue eyes and shapely features. He was tall and well made, a skilful horseman, and an astonishing master of fence. Few of us could equal him with the sword, but he was modest and una.s.suming, and had a genial manner, very captivating.

He was a frequent visitor at my aunt's house, where he speedily became as great a favourite as Felix. Indeed, I sometimes thought that Jeanne regarded him with even more favour. She spent much time in his company, listening to his accounts of the English Court and of his own home, which was situated in a district called Devonshire. I think Felix was not too well pleased with this intimacy, but whatever sorrow it caused him he kept locked up in his own breast.

One evening, they started together to the house, expecting me to follow as soon as I was relieved of my duty. It was, I remember, about a half after six, when I left the hotel. The streets as usual were thronged with citizens and soldiers, who in some places almost blocked the road.

In front of me was a horseman, to all appearance but newly arrived. He was proceeding at a foot pace, and evidently looking for suitable accommodation.

"A fine beast!" I thought, glancing at the animal, and then--"Surely I have seen that horse before!"

The knowledge did not come to me at once, but by degrees I remembered the early morning ride through the sleeping village of Le Blanc, and the richly-dressed cavalier with whom we had travelled some distance. I quickened my steps, and scanned the rider closely. I could not see his face well, but there could be no mistaking the alert, soldierly figure, and the short, brown curls escaping over the forehead.

"Faith, my friend," I said to myself, "the tables are turned now! One word from me, and you would be torn in pieces; but you must be a brave rascal to venture alone into Roch.e.l.le! If Anjou has many spies as fearless as you, he must be well served."

I walked close behind him, wondering what was best to be done. He was certainly a spy, who had entered the city for the purpose of searching out our strength and weakness. Perhaps it would be best to call a patrol, and have him arrested on the spot. I was still considering this, when he turned up a side street and dismounted before the door of an inn. An ostler led his horse to the stables, and he entered the house.

Now the fellow was so completely in my power that I had the mind to watch him a little further. Several persons were in the room, but he had taken his place at an unoccupied table in the corner, and called for the host.

"Some food and a little wine," he said, "but serve me quickly; I have important business on hand."

"Monsieur has travelled?" said the landlord, with a glance at his boots.

"Yes," he answered, "and one feels safer inside Roch.e.l.le than beyond its walls, let me tell you!"

"What is Anjou doing now, monsieur?" asked a man at one of the other tables.

"Killing," said the stranger briefly. "Roch.e.l.le will soon be able to hold all those left of the Religion."

"I vow," exclaimed an iron-featured trooper, "it makes one wonder our leaders should keep us cooped up here."

"You had better offer your opinion to the Admiral, or to Conde," said the stranger with a laugh, and he turned his attention to the food that had been set before him.

He ate and drank quickly, taking no further part in the conversation, but apparently as much at ease as if sitting at Anjou's table.

"You will require a room, monsieur?" said the host presently.

"I will pay for one, though I may not use it."

"And your horse, monsieur?"