As the guards cut the cords that bound De Ganache's arms those who were on the tower crowded round to congratulate him; but he seemed dazed, and unable to realise his fortune. With an effort, however, he brought himself together, and silently took my hand. He could not speak, but I understood; and now Sarlaboux urged an immediate move, saying that the sooner De Ganache was away the better, as there was no knowing what might happen next. With this he led the way down, and we followed.

On coming forth from the tower we found that the troops were already moving away, though many of the officers remained behind, and came up to us, out of curiosity to learn what had happened. At first we could not see Montluc anywhere, but a voice called out: "There is the General!" And looking, we saw a lonely figure in the distance galloping by the Marais de St. Hilaire. Then he turned the angle of the great priory. There was a flash of his red plume, a glitter of sunlight on his corselet, and he was gone.

"If you take my advice, monsieur," I said to De Ganache, "you will be off at once. Here is a horse—and there is the open gate." And with this I placed the reins of my nag, which Pierrebon had brought up, in his hand. The enthusiasm of the moment caught all. MÉnorval of the Light Horse gave him a sword, someone else a hat, another a cloak. The colour came and went from De Ganache's sunburnt face as, stammering his thanks, he mounted. Then he put out his hand to me. "Monsieur," he said, "I can never forget; and De Ganache is ever your friend. Au revoir, gentlemen!" So, giving the reins to the horse, he galloped out of the gate, which was but a stonethrow distant. As he crossed the bridge he turned in the saddle and waved his hand in farewell, and then we lost him in the hollow ground beyond.

Mounting Pierrebon's horse I joined the others, and we rode back to the priory—MÉnorval swearing that I must be a magician, as never before had he known Montluc yield as he had done this morning.

As for me, though surprised at the result, my satisfaction was increased by the thought that in aiding De Ganache I had helped one who was a friend of mademoiselle. It was not this that had prompted me to intervene on his behalf. Had it been anyone else I should have acted as I had done. De Ganache was not clean-handed. He had shown little mercy to those who fell into his hands, and when face to face with death he had shown the white feather, though at the last he seemed to recover himself. Still, guilty though he may have been, his death would have been a crime, and it was something to think I had stood between Montluc and that terrible blood madness which at times possessed him.

On arrival at the Capuchins my first thought was to see Montluc at once, and although Sarlaboux and others tried to dissuade me I persisted in my design, and found myself once more before the door of his cabinet. On my entering he received me coldly, and, without making any reference to what had just happened, inquired my business as if he had totally forgotten his summons to me. I explained that I was there in obedience to his request to see me, and after a moment of thought he said:

"You recollect I told you I would probably entrust you with a commission to the Queen? Are you ready to undertake it?"

"Perfectly."

"You will have to go back to Paris; but that is your way. When can you start?"

It was not wise to think of a return to Paris; but I had gone too far to shrink back now, and besides, I was beginning to believe again in my star. So I gulped down my fears, and put a bold front on the matter, saying:

"As soon as I can get a horse, monsieur."

"Ho!" And we looked at each other steadily. A faint smile bent his iron lips, and, muttering something in his beard, he took up a pen, scratched a few lines, and handed me the paper. I glanced at it, and saw it was an order to give me any horse I liked from his stable. I began to thank him; but he stopped me, saying:

"Show the order to Sarlaboux; and if you take my advice you will choose
Lizette, the dun mare. She will well replace the one you have—lost."

"I well know how to value such a gift, monsieur."

"Here there is a packet for the Queen; but this is not your task. I am going to entrust you with a prisoner, whom you will place in the Queen's hands."

"Monsieur," I began; but he read my thoughts ere I had spoken them.

"Oh, it is no catch-poll's business; I have others to do that. This lady is only a nominal prisoner——"

"It's a woman, then?" And my thoughts went back to mademoiselle.
Could Sarlaboux have been mistaken?

"Yes; and remember that her life depends upon her reaching the Queen, though she does not believe it."

"May I ask this lady's name?"

"Mademoiselle de Paradis, the greatest heiress in Poitou, but a
Huguenot to her little finger-tips."

"In that case, monsieur, the Queen's mantle of protection is likely to be a shroud."

"You do not understand," he snapped. "Mademoiselle, or rather her lands, have attracted the attention of Diane de Poitiers and her brood of swallows. The Queen would give her right hand to thwart the mistress in this, and she, and only she, can save her. Montpensier will be here in a fortnight, and I shall be gone. You know, I think, what that means. I give you my word of honour, monsieur, that this lady's life is on a hair. Why I should trouble about it I don't know; but the Queen has commanded me in this, and Jean de Paradis, her father, was my old friend, and for his sake I would save his child. But you seem to be sniffing the air over this, M. Broussel——"

"I was, monsieur! But now I accept the task."

"Very well. You will arrange, then, to start at three. I shall see that mademoiselle is ready. You will have four good swords with you; and, remember, she is your prisoner, rescue or no rescue."

I bowed, and was turning to go, when he stopped me.

"A word more! Trust not a soul, King's man or Huguenot—do not even trust her. It is said that she is the promised wife of De Ganache. If that story is true I promise you trouble, but you have yourself to thank for it." And he rose and accompanied me to his door. It was the only allusion he made to what had happened on the tower, and never again did he refer to it.

I had more than guessed who my prisoner was, though, of course, I was not sure, and the mention of De Ganache in connection with her had struck me like a blow. But it was hardly the time to think of matters like this, and putting it aside with a firm hand I hurried to my quarters, where to my annoyance I found the Capuchin Grigolet. I guessed his needs, and a brace of crowns to further the conversion of the Jewess rid me of the rascal. Then bidding Pierrebon be ready to start in a couple of hours I went in search of Sarlaboux.

I found that worthy in the archway of the main gate playing at cards with MÉnorval.

"Ogier beats you." And MÉnorval put down the knave of spades.

"Out upon the knave! Here is Pallas." And Sarlaboux covered the knave with the queen.

"And David, the king, takes the game," laughed MÉnorval as he picked up the stakes and began to shuffle once more.

With an apology for interrupting them I showed Sarlaboux my order, whereupon, with many exclamations at my good luck, he led the way to the stable, followed by MÉnorval and myself.

"Morbleu!" grumbled MÉnorval, "if this is the pay that royal messengers get, away with my gilt spurs, and give me the wings of Mercury to my heels."

And so, laughing, we reached the stables, where Sarlaboux bid me take my choice, his face falling a little when he saw me halt before the dun mare. From her looks I saw she was likely to carry me well; and then, there was Montluc's own recommendation.

"I will take Lizette," I said.

"Then you take the best horse in all Poitou." And MÉnorval then and there offered me a hundred crowns for her, which, needless to say, I refused.

At the appointed time, accompanied by Pierrebon, I rode into the courtyard of the priory, and found there the men whom Montluc had promised me. They had with them a sumpter horse, whilst a third, which was evidently intended for my prisoner, was held by a groom. I had some little time to wait, which I passed in no enviable frame of mind. Dismounting, I looked carefully at the saddlery of my party, and then paced up and down the flagged court in converse with Sarlaboux, who must have found me somewhat dull, for he rallied me, offering, if I liked not the task of taking a pretty woman all the way to Paris, to take my place, as he had need of a wife and a dowry to rebuild his house. It was in the midst of one of his sallies that the door opened, and Montluc appeared on the steps, and by his side—Diane. There was not a doubt of it; and for a moment I became hot and cold all over, but, collecting myself, advanced to meet them. As I came forward I saw mademoiselle start slightly, make a half step towards me, and draw back, and then Montluc said:

"This gentleman, mademoiselle, will be your escort to Paris."

I bowed, saying nothing, but she held out her hand.

"Monsieur, I had hoped you would have known me."

I confess I was tongue-tied, and could only mutter something, and
Montluc glanced from the one to the other of us.

"Then you are already acquainted?" he asked in surprise.

"Mademoiselle is the lady to whom, as I have mentioned to you, monsieur, I was enabled to render a slight service——"

"That is what he calls saving my life, Monsieur de Montluc. I have at any rate to thank you for giving me a friend for my jailor. There is but one more kindness I ask of you——"

"And that is——?"

"Let this gentleman escort me to ChÂtellerault. I do not want to go to
Paris."

Montluc held up his hand. "That is the old cry, mademoiselle. It is impossible! The Queen's orders are final."

"And you call yourself my dead father's friend?"

Montluc smiled grimly. "I saved his life at Pavia. That was thirty-three years ago. But that has nothing to do with the matter. You cannot stay here. You cannot stay at ChÂtellerault. You must go to Paris, and it is growing late."

She flushed all over, but again returned to her point.

"You have time after time told me I am not a prisoner. Why, then——"

"Because ChÂtellerault no longer contains your friends, and Monsieur de
Randan now commands there."

She turned as white now as she had been red before, and a bitter pang of jealousy went through me as I thought for whom all this feeling was; but she brought herself together and faced Montluc.

"Very well, monsieur. I understand your friendship and your kindness now. I tell you plainly that I will escape at the first opportunity. I shall never reach Paris."

"That is M. Broussel's affair; and, mademoiselle, the marches are long in Poitou."

She gave him no answer, but, as it were, resigning herself to the present, went up to her horse, accepting only the assistance of the groom to mount.

When all was ready Montluc called me aside, and we stood together for a moment on the wide steps.

"Mordieu!" he muttered as he glanced at mademoiselle, "I do not envy your task. Upon my soul, I am glad that Jean de Paradis won her mother's hand and not I!" And then in an altered manner:

"I have your word to do all that man can for her safety?"

"I have said so, monsieur."

There was a little silence, and he stretched out a lean hand.

"Monsieur, forget not: there is room for you in Italy; it would gladden me to see the golden cock of Orrain once more upon the field. And now go."