At a quarter to four o'clock, Edward Langdale shook young Abbot by the shoulder and with some difficulty succeeded in waking him. "Quick, Abbot! get up!" he said. "Go down and saddle your horse: but make no noise. Do you understand me? No more than an owl. Go down and saddle your horse: do you hear? but be quiet about it."

"What is in the wind?" said the other.

"Nothing to you: but do as you are bidden," answered Edward, and took his way to Mr. Oakingham's room. Here he had more difficulty, for the door was locked or bolted, and he had to make some noise before the good gentleman would open it.

"Why, what is the matter?" asked Oakingham. "Is the house on fire? It is quite dark."

"Here, sir, light your lamp," said Edward. "My lord has changed his mind, and is going to set out directly. You will be left behind if you do not make haste."

Oakingham swore a little; but Edward did not stay to listen, gave him his lamp, and turned toward the rooms of the servants, which lay at the end of the passage over the kitchen. The last chamber but one had been assigned to the two blacksmiths, and, as Edward was approaching quietly that where the lackey and the groom were housed, the shorter of the Savoyards, roused by the noise at Mr. Oakingham's door, put his head out.

Edward walked on quietly, and, when he was abreast of the man, said, with an easy air, "You had better get your clothes on. You will be wanted presently."

"Which horse?" asked the man, at once.

"All but one," said Edward; and, knocking hard at the door of the servants' room, he ordered them in a loud tone to rise and come to the stable. The blacksmith was still at the door; but Edward caught him by the neck and pushed him back into the room, saying, "Pardie! did I not tell you to get dressed?"

The man staggered back, and before he recovered himself the young gentleman had caught the key from the inside and locked the door. He did not, however, call Lord Montagu till he had gone out into the yard and ascertained that the windows of the rooms above were too high to admit of any one dropping to the ground.

A good deal of bustle succeeded: the servants of the house were roused, valises and bags were packed in haste, and horses were saddled; but before five o'clock all was ready for departure, and Edward approached Lord Montagu as he stood before the inn, saying, "Shall I let out that blacksmith? He is safely locked in his room, and hammering at the door as if he would knock it down. Well he left his tools in the stable, or he would have been out by this time."

"Let him out, to-be-sure," said Montagu: "he may follow now if he will. He will keep us too late."

"His horse is saddled for him, my lord," replied Edward: "by your leave he shall come with us, or I will come with him." And, running up-stairs, he opened the door of the man's room.

The worthy was at first inclined to make some noisy remonstrance, but Edward stopped him in an instant. "No noise!" he said, seeing that he was dressed. "Go down-stairs. Get on your horse and put him between me and the groom. If you take a step too quick or a step too slow, you will have a ball through your head in one minute. We know where your comrade is gone, and all about you: so pray Heaven we meet with no misadventure on the road, for, if we do, this is the last morning you will ever see."

The man looked scared out of his senses, and descended the stairs with a face as pale as ashes.

The thundering command of Lord Montagu, "Mount, quick! Stand by him, Ned!" did not serve to allay his apprehensions; and perhaps no man of the whole party more sincerely prayed that they might pass uninterrupted than he did.

The score was paid, and the party rode off, with Montagu and Mr. Oakingham at the head, and Edward Langdale, the groom, and the blacksmith between them, in the rear. It was still quite dark; but the eye of the pretended Savoyard roamed round and round from the very commencement of the journey. At the end of a few minutes he began to talk, and apparently desired to exculpate himself from any complicity in his fellow-countryman's proceedings; but Edward stopped him sternly, saying, "Silence! Your tongue makes as much noise as the crack of a pistol, and I will silence it if you say one word more." He put his hand to his holster as he spoke, and the man ceased instantly.

"I have pistols too, sir," said the sturdy groom.

"He will need no more than I give him," said Edward. "I do not miss, Hobbs."

"No, I know you don't, sir," said the groom: "at least I never saw you."

"Let us keep quiet," said Edward; "but be prepared. If we should be stopped, and this fellow's comrade is there, you take care of him. I will settle with this one."

The first part of the way led up hill, through a pretty close wood skirting the road on either hand; but at the top of the ascent the little party issued forth upon some open, undulating ground, which the insecurity of border-life had kept a good deal out of cultivation. The darkness was now growing pale at the approach of day, and the gray outline of a chateau or two, with a village church some two miles off, and what seemed a considerable town a good deal farther, might be seen to the right and left. All was still and silent till the light clouds overhead began to turn rosy, and then a lark started up close beside the road and went quivering and trilling into the sky.

"My heaven! they are going very slow," murmured the blacksmith, in a low voice and with a groan. "Why does not the English lord go faster, young gentleman? Does he not know this part of the country is full of brigands?"

"He knows there are brigands about," answered Edward; "but we know how to deal with them."

Edward, however, did think that his lord might have ridden faster; and, as they began to descend into another hollow with a thick wood at the bottom, he scanned every thing around and below with a keen, quick eye, but could discover no moving thing.

When they issued out of the wood at the other side of the dell, the sun was apparently just rising above the horizon, and the whole sky was full of purple and gold; and, when they topped the hill above, a wide but not very interesting landscape was before them. Some high blue hills were seen at a distance on the right; but nearer, on both sides, were several chateaux and villages, with scattered woods and ponds and rivers, all glowing like rubies in the red light. The human race, too, began to bestir itself to daily toil, and several men, evidently peasants, were seen leading horses or driving oxen to the field. But the view was soon cut off from their sight by broken banks tumbled about in strange confusion, interspersed with patches of scrubby firs, and here and there a low hovel looking picturesque in its very wretchedness.

The agitation of the blacksmith seemed every moment increasing, and once he even attempted to drop behind; but the stern words from Edward, "Keep up!" accompanied by a motion of the hand toward his pistols, soon brought the man to a line with his companions. At length, after they had ridden on for about half a mile or more, he burst forth, saying, "I want to speak to the lord: he is going too slow. Let me speak to him."

"Well," said Edward, "ride on by my side." And, drawing a pistol as a precaution, he spurred forward. The country indeed just there would have greatly favored the fellow's escape, for it was rough, uneven, and covered with stunted trees and bushes, while a small pine wood flanked the road on the left or French side, and a borne, or landmark, with a low wall, lay on the other. The highway was wide, however; and Edward felt certain that if the smith endeavored to gallop off he could bring him from his horse before he got out of sight. In a moment they were by the side of Lord Montagu, who checked his horse to hear what they wanted.

"My lord, my lord," said the man, in very good French, but with great agitation, "ride fast. Take good advice, and ride fast, or they will catch you."

"Who will catch me?" asked Montagu, eyeing him.

"I do not know who, exactly," said the man, "Brin, my comrade, has the names of so many on his list. The cardinal gave it to him before we set out. But ride fast, for God's sake! There may be time yet."

"Good advice, truly," said Montagu. "Use your spurs, gentlemen. We will inquire further hereafter, if we can,—if we can: ay, if we can, indeed! Draw up your horses. Let the rest come forward. Stir not from that spot, man, or I blow your brains out. Now, who are these before us?"

From a little bridle-path which issued from the wood and crossed the highroad some twelve or fourteen men, well armed and mounted, had just ridden out and barred the way.

"Let us charge them at once, my lord," said Edward. "Some of us may cut through. You shall, if I live."

"Look behind, Ned," said Lord Montagu.

Edward turned his head in the direction to which Montagu had glanced a moment before, and saw a party not much less numerous than that in front, with the blacksmith who had disappeared the night before amongst the foremost. His pistol was in his hand, and the temptation was irresistible. He threw his arm across his chest without wheeling his horse, pulled the trigger, and the traitor fell from his saddle with a bullet in his shoulder.

At the same moment the English groom, who had ridden up at Lord Montagu's first order, caught the other unhappy man by the arm, and had the muzzle of his weapon at his ear; but Montagu put it aside before he could fire, saying, "Vain! vain! Edward, you are always too ready with those pistols."

"I have given him but his due, my lord, if I die for it the next minute," said Edward. "But see: that tall man with the white scarf is waving it to your lordship."

"Stay here, and I will go forward a little," said Lord Montagu. "There is nothing for it but to surrender quietly. They are five to one."

"Let me go with you, my lord," said Edward.

"Well, then, put up your pistol," answered Montagu. "The rest stay here."

Montagu took off his hat in answer to the signal made by the other party, and rode forward with Edward, while a gentleman of some five or six and thirty, who seemed the leader of the larger body gathered across the road, advanced alone to meet the English nobleman. As they neared each other, the two saluted courteously; and throughout their interview the utmost politeness manifested itself, instead of the ferocious roughness which in a French picture of this very incident is represented as characterizing the demeanor of M. de Bourbonne.

The French gentleman spoke first. "I have the honor of wishing you good-day, my Lord Montagu," he said. "Your lordship is here somewhat earlier than we expected you."

"I am sorry I did not know, sir, that you are so matutinal in your habits," replied Montagu, somewhat superciliously; "otherwise I should have been here earlier still."

"Doubtless," answered the other. "But I need not now tell your lordship that, being later than you intended, it is useless to attempt to pursue your journey to-day."

"Why, the roads seem very bad, it is true," said Montagu. "I had hoped that my good friend the Duke of Lorraine kept his highways in better order."

"I am afraid, my lord," said the stranger, "that the French Government must bear the blame in this instance; for you are now upon French soil. That landmark points out the boundary."

"I did not mark the landmark," answered the Englishman; "but, if I be upon French territory, may I know to whom I am indebted for this hospitable reception?"

"My name, my lord, is Bourbonne,—the Count de Bourbonne," said the other. "I only last night heard of your lordship's arrival in these parts; and I at once made preparation to receive you in my chateau."

"We expected something of the kind," rejoined Montagu; "for a personage who had attached himself to my service on the road thought fit to absent himself last night, and we judged he would most likely spread the rumor of my coming. In truth, I wished to spare all noble gentlemen the hospitable trouble you seem inclined to take, and, indeed, would a great deal rather not inflict it upon you now."

"No trouble in the world, my lord," replied the count. "And, indeed, I must insist upon the honor of entertaining you till you can be better lodged. As to the poor man who favored me with notice of your approach, I am afraid he has met with a little accident. I heard the report of a pistol, and saw one of the people there fall off his horse."

"A pure accident," said Montagu, in an indifferent tone. "One of my attendants had a pistol in his hand and his finger upon the trigger. He was seized at that moment with a convulsive affection to which he is sometimes subject: the hammer fell, and the bullet flew out of the muzzle. In those cases, monsieur le comte, the ball, as you must have often remarked, flies right at the greatest villain it can find. It is invariable, I believe."

"Very probably," answered De Bourbonne: "I will ask a philosopher his opinion. But, in the mean time, may I ask your lordship if there are more accidents of the same kind likely to happen? Are there any other gentlemen of yours with their fingers on their triggers?"

"Oh, no!" replied Montagu. "I made them put all their pistols up as soon as I comprehended the pressing nature of the invitation I was about to receive, and the forcible arguments ready to back it. Am I to understand that it is extended to my attendants also?"

"To every one," replied the count, with a low bow. "I could never think of asking your lordship to my house without including your friends and followers."

"You do me too much honor," said Montagu. "But amongst my followers you will find a comrade of the worthy gentleman who did me the favor of being my harbinger. Now, if I have any influence with you, my lord count, I would bespeak for him a high place, not in your esteem, but on your castle. Doubtless you have battlements, or iron stanchions, or things of that kind, about, to which you could raise him sus per col. He has all the same qualities as his friend, whom you already know, and is a Savoyard, he says,[5]—though we have some doubts upon the subject."

"I should be most happy to oblige your lordship in any thing," answered the Count de Bourbonne; "but you know the king is the bestower of all dignities and the fountain of all honors; and therefore I cannot take upon me to raise the gentleman to the elevated position you desire for him."

"Well, well," replied Montagu, "time works wonders; and doubtless he will meet his deserts sooner or later. May I ask if you have lately heard from our mutual friend the Cardinal de Richelieu?"

"Last night, my lord," answered Bourbonne. "He was quite well, and desired me to inquire particularly after your health."

"I expected no less of his courtesy," said the English nobleman. "But I see your people are closing up pretty near, and, if I mistake not, have got possession of my valet's horse, with a desire of lightening the poor beast's load. We had probably better join them, as the man does not comprehend much French; and Englishmen are sometimes so surly and stupid that it is impossible to get them to comprehend the force of numbers."

"At your pleasure," replied the count; and, making a sign to his followers on the road to the north to join him, he went quietly to the spot where Mr. Oakingham and Lord Montagu's servants had remained.

He now somewhat changed his tone, and, abandoning the bantering mood in which he and Lord Montagu had indulged, but still with undiminished courtesy of manner, required all present but his own followers to give up their arms. Edward for one did so with regret; but still it was some satisfaction to him to see the treacherous blacksmith lying on the bank with his comrade busily engaged in bandaging his wounded shoulder.

"I will now have the honor of conducting you to my poor house," said the count, bowing to Lord Montagu; and, with five or six armed men before and a larger number following, with three on each side to guard against any evasion, he commenced his march. Before departing, however, he spoke a word or two to one of his attendants; and Edward remarked that, as they went, a diligent examination was made of all the pistols which his party had given up, as if to ascertain which had been discharged; and he doubted not that some consequences not very agreeable to himself would follow the inevitable discovery that he had fired the shot which had wounded the traitor.

The road wound through one of the wildest parts of France, just upon the frontier of Champagne and Bar; two or three small rivers had to be crossed; the country was but little cultivated, bearing more the aspect of a sandy moor than of the entrance to one of the richest wine-districts in the world; and more than once Edward cast his eyes around, thinking that it might be no difficult matter to escape and find a refuge in Lorraine if he could but avoid the pistol-shots which were sure to follow him. Had he been intrusted with the care of Lord Montagu's papers he would certainly have made the attempt, but he knew not even who carried them, and he resolved not to abandon his lord except for his service.

Whether Montagu divined what was passing in his mind or not, I cannot tell; but, after they had gone about half a mile, he called Edward to his side and said to him, in English, "Keep still, Ned. Activity will do no good here. The best thing for all of us is to be perfectly passive. If I had trusted to your young, sharp eyes sooner, it might have been better; but it is too late now either to regret or amend what is done."

"May I request your lordship to speak to your attendants in French?" said Monsieur de Bourbonne. "You speak our tongue in such perfection, my lord, that it must be as familiar to you as your own."

"I shall probably have time to study it more profoundly," answered Montagu, with a smile. "But you can inform me yourself, count, if that fine old chateau upon the height is Bourbonne, where we shall rest, I presume."

"That is Bourbonne," replied the count; "and the little town you may catch sight of down there in the hollow, a little to the left. But, though we will stop there to take some refreshment, I think that the Castle of Coiffy will afford your lordship a more convenient resting-place."

"Oh, yes! I remember Coiffy," answered Montagu, laughing. "I passed close to it some three months ago. It is a strong place, and so well built, I am told, count, that the garrison cannot hear the drums of Lorraine beat at Bar."

"That is only because they do not pay attention to them, my lord," replied Bourbonne.

As they rode on, the old chateau grew more and more clearly defined; and the state of decay into which the ancient defences had fallen showed plainly why it had not been chosen for the place of Montagu's detention.

In the village the party stopped to breakfast, and the English nobleman was treated with every sort of respectful attention; but a strict guard was kept at the door of the chamber where he was served. The attendants had some food placed before them in another room; but they were as carefully watched. In about an hour the march recommenced, and shortly after, while gazing forward, Edward perceived rising over the trees at the distance of several miles the towers of Coiffy, a much stronger place than Bourbonne, which he never lost sight of till they reached the drawbridge.

It was apparent that their coming had been made known beforehand, for all was evidently prepared to receive Lord Montagu with ceremonious politeness. An old gentleman whom they called Monsieur de Boulogne stood in the gateway, hat in hand, and immediately proceeded to conduct the noble prisoner to his apartments.

Mr. Oakingham followed, and Edward Langdale was about to do the same, when the Count de Bourbonne took him by the arm, saying, "Stop, young man! I destine another chamber for you."

His tone was somewhat menacing, and Edward turned round and gazed full in his face.

"Tell me," said the count, "and mind you tell me true——"

"If I tell you any thing at all, I shall tell you the truth," answered Edward, interrupting him: "so spare such exhortations, sir count. But it is probable that I shall not answer a small gentleman of Champagne at all, especially if he interrogates me in a manner which much greater personages than himself have never displayed toward me."

It is probable that this rude answer was intended to stop all inquiries into Lord Montagu's affairs,—for Edward did not doubt that they were about to be the subject of De Bourbonne's questions; but the count gazed on him with extreme surprise, exclaiming, "Ha! Whom have we here? A small gentleman of Champagne! Will your magnificence have the condescension, then, to inform the small gentleman of Champagne if it was your hand that sent a pistol-ball into the shoulder of a poor personage who came up with my train when I first had the honor of seeing you?"

"It was by accident I shot him in the shoulder," replied Edward: "I intended the ball for his head."

"If he dies we may find a rope that will fit you, young man," said the count; and, beckoning up the man who had examined the pistols on the road, he said, "Take him away and put him in the dungeon where I told you."

"If you hang me, sir count," said Edward, without the slightest alarm, "you will do so with the passport in my breast which was given me by his Eminence of Richelieu with his own hand. You had better ask the two spies a few questions before you treat me with any thing like indignity."

So saying, he followed the man to whom Bourbonne had spoken. Another soldier took a lantern from a hook and came after; and in a minute or two Edward found himself pushed into a room where the faint light of the lantern only served to show the shining damp which clung to the stone walls.