'Under which king, Bezonian? speak or die.

'Under King Harry.

--KING HENRY IV.

'One bird in the hand is not always worth two in the bush,

assuredly,' said Philip, when Berenger was calm enough to hold

council on what he called this most blessed discovery; 'but where

to seek them?

'I have no fears now,' returned Berenger. 'We have not been bore

through so much not to be brought together at last. Soon, soon

shall we have her! A minister so distinguished as Isaac Gardon is

sure to be heard of either at La Rochelle, Montauban, or Nimes,

their great gathering places.

'For Rochelle, then?' said Philip.

'Even so. We will be off early to-morrow, and from thence, if we

do not find her there, as I expected, we shall be able to write the

thrice happy news to those at home.

Accordingly, the little cavalcade started in good time, in the cool

of the morning of the bright long day of early June, while apple

petal floated down on them in the lanes like snow, and nightingales

in every hedge seemed to give voice and tune to Berenger's eager,

yearning hopes.

Suddenly there was a sound of horse's feet in the road before them,

and as they drew aside to make way, a little troop of gendarmes

filled the narrow lane. The officer, a rough, harsh-looking man,

laid his hand on Berenger's bridle, with the words, 'In the name of

the King!

Philip began to draw his sword with one hand, and with the other to

urge his horse between the officer and his brother, but Berenger

called out, 'Back! This gentleman mistakes my person. I am the

Baron de Ribaumont, and have a safe-conduct from the King.

'What king?' demanded the officer.

'From King Charles.

'I arrest you,' said the officer, 'in the name of King Henry III,

and of the Queen Regent Catherine.

'The King dead?' Exclaimed Berenger.

'On the 30th of May. Now, sir.

'Your warrant--your cause?' still demanded Berenger.

'There will be time enough for that when you are safely lodged,

said the captain, roughly pulling at the rein, which he had held

all the time.

'What, no warrant?' shouted Philip, 'he is a mere robber!' and with

drawn sword he was precipitating himself on the captain, when

another gendarme, who had been on the watch, grappled with him, and

dragged him off his horse before he could strike a blow. The other

two English, Humfrey Holt and John Smithers, strong full-grown men,

rode in fiercely to the rescue, and Berenger himself struggled

furiously to loose himself from the captain, and deliver his

brother. Suddenly there was the report of a pistol: poor Smithers

fell, there was a moment of standing aghast, and in that moment the

one man and the two youths were each pounced on by three or four

gendarmes, thrown down and pinioned.

'Is this usage for gentlemen?' exclaimed Berenger, as he was

roughly raised to his feet.

'The King's power has been resisted,' was all the answer; and when

he would have been to see how it was with poor Smithers, one of the

men-at-arms kicked over the body with sickening brutality, saying,

'Dead enough, heretic and English carrion!

Philip uttered a cry of loathing horror, and turned white;

Berenger, above all else, felt a sort of frenzied despair as he

thought of the peril of the boy who had been trusted to him.

'Have you had enough, sir?' said the captain. 'Mount and come.

They could only let themselves be lifted to their horses, and their

hands were then set free to use their bridles, each being guarded

by a soldier on each side of him. Philip attempted but once to

speak, and that in English: 'Next time I shall take my pistol.

He was rudely silenced, and rode on with wide-open stolid eyes and

dogged face, steadfastly resolved that no Frenchman should see him

flinch, and vexed that Berenger had his riding mask on so that his

face could not be studied; while he, on his side, was revolving all

causes possible for his arrest, and all means of enforcing he

liberation, if not of himself at least of Philip and Humfrey. He

looked round for Guibert, but could not see him.

They rode on through the intricate lanes till the sun was high and

scorching, and Berenger felt how far he was from perfect recovery.

At last, however, some little time past noon, the gendarmes halted

at a stone fountain, outside a village, and disposing a sufficient

guard around his captives, the officer permitted them to dismount

and rest, while he, with the rest of the troop and the horses, went

to the village CABARET. Philip would have asked his brother what

it meant, and what was to be done, but Berenger shook his head, and

intimated that silence was safest as present, since they might be

listened to; and Philip, who so much imagined treachery and

iniquity to be the order of the day in France that he was scarcely

surprised at the present disaster, resigned himself to the same

sullen endurance. Provisions and liquor were presently sent up

from the inn, but Berenger could taste nothing but the cold water

of the fountain, which trickled out cool and fresh beneath an arch

surmounted by a figure of Our Lady. He bathed his face and head in

the refreshing spring, and lay down on a cloak in the shade, Philip

keeping a constant change of drenched kerchiefs on his brow, and

hoping that he slept, till at the end to two or three hours the

captain returned, gave the word to horse, and the party rode on

through intricate lanes, blossoming with hawthorn, and ringing with

songs of birds that spoke a very different language now to

Berenger's heart from what they had said in the hopeful morning.

A convent bell was ringing to evensong, when passing its gateway;

the escort turned up a low hill, on the summit of which stood a

chateau, covering a considerable extent of ground, with a circuit

of wall, whitewashed so as perfectly to glare in the evening sun;

at every angle a round, slim turret, crowned by a brilliant red-

tiled extinguisher-like cap; and the whole surmounted by a tall old

keep in the centre. There was a square projection containing an

arched gateway, with heavy doorways, which were thrown open as the

party approached. Philip looked up as he rode in, and over the

doorway beheld the familiar fretted shield, with the leopard in the

corner, and 'A moi Ribaumont' round it. Could it then be

Berenger's own castle, and was it thus that he was approaching it?

He himself had not looked up; he was utterly spent with fatigue,

dejection, and the severe headache brought on by the heat of the

sun, and was only intent on rallying his powers for the crisis of

fate that was probably approaching; and thus scarcely took note of

the court into which he rode, lying between the gateway and the

corps de logis, a building erected when comfort demanded more

space than was afforded by the old keep, against which one end

leant; but still, though inclosed in a court, the lower windows

were small and iron-barred, and all air of luxury was reserved for

the mullioned casements of the upper storey. The court was

flagged, but grass shot up between the stones, and the trim air of

ease and inhabited comfort to which the brothers were used at home

was utterly wanting. Berenger was hustled off his horse, and

roughly pushed through a deep porch, where the first thing he heard

was the Chevalier de Ribaumont's voice in displeasure.

'How now, sir; hands off! Is this the way you conduct my nephew?

'He resisted, sir.

'Sir,' said Berenger, advancing into the hall, 'I know not the

meaning of this. I am peacefully traveling with a passport from

the King, when I am set upon, no warrant shown me, my faithful

servant slain, myself and my brother, an English subject,

shamefully handled.

'The violence shall be visited on whatever rascal durst insult a

gentleman and my nephew,' said the Chevalier. 'For release, it

shall be looked to; but unfortunately it is too true that there are

orders from the Queen in Council for your apprehension, and it was

only on my special entreaty for the honour of the family, and the

affection I bear you, that I was allowed to receive you here

instead of your being sent to an ordinary prison.

'On what pretext?' demanded Berenger.

'It is known that you have letters in your possession from escaped

traitors now in England, to La Noue, Duplessis Mornay, and other

heretics.

'That is easily explained,' said Berenger. 'You know well, sir,

that they were to facilitate my search at La Sablerie. You shall

see them yourself, sir.

'That I must assuredly do,' replied the Chevalier, 'for it is the

order of her Majesty, I regret to say, that your person and baggage

be searched;' then, as indignant colour rushed into Berenger's

face, and an angry exclamation was beginning, he added, 'Nay, I

understand, my dear cousin, it is very painful, but we would spare

you as much as possible. It will be quite enough if the search is

made by myself in the presence of this gentleman, who will only

stand by for form's sake. I have no doubt it will enable us

quickly to clear up matters, and set you free again. Do me the

honour to follow me to the chamber destined for you.

'Let me see the order for my arrest,' said Berenger, holding his

head high.

'The English scruple must be gratified,' said the Chevalier. And

accordingly the gendarme captain unfolded before him a paper, which

was evidently a distinct order to arrest and examine the person of

Henri Beranger Eustache, Baron de Ribaumont and Sieur de Leurre,

suspected of treasonable practices--and it bore the signature of

Catherine.

'There is nothing here said of my step-father's son, Philip

Thistlewood, nor of my servant, Humfrey Holt,' said Berenger,

gathering the sense with his dizzy eyes as best he could. 'They

cannot be detained, being born subjects of the Queen of England.

'They intercepted the justice of the King,' said the captain,

laying his hand on Philip's shoulder. 'I shall have them off with

me to the garrison of Lugon, and deal with them there.

'Wait!' said the Chevalier, interposing before Berenger's fierce,

horror-struck expostulation could break forth; 'this is an

honourable young gentleman, son of a chevalier of good reputation

in England, and he need not be so harshly dealt with. You will not

separate either him or the poor groom from my nephew, so the

Queen's authority be now rightly acknowledged.

The captain shrugged his shoulders, as if displeased; and the

Chevalier, turning to Berenger, said, 'You understand, nephew, the

lot of you all depends on your not giving umbrage to these officers

of her Majesty. I will do my poor best for you; but submission is

first needed.

Berenger knew enough of his native country to be aware that la

justice du Roi was a terrible thing, and that Philip's resistance

had really put him in so much danger that it was needful to be most

careful not further to offend the functionary of Government; and

abhorrent as the proposed search was to him, he made no further

objection, but taking Philip's arm, lest they should he separated,

he prepared to follow wherever he was to be conducted. The

Chevalier led the way along a narrow stone passage, with loophole-

windows here and there; and Philip, for all his proud, indifferent

bearing, felt his flesh creep as he looked for a stair descending

into the bowels of the earth. A stair there was, but it went up

instead of down, and after mounting this, and going through a sort

of ante-room, a door was opened into a tolerably spacious

apartment, evidently in the old keep; for the two windows on

opposite sides were in an immensely massive wall, and the floor

above and vaulting below were of stone; but otherwise there was

nothing repulsive in the appearance of the room. There was a wood

fire on the hearth; the sun, setting far to the north, peeped in

aslant at one window; a mat was on the floor, tapestry on the lower

part of the walls; a table and chairs, and a walnut chest, with a

chess-board and a few books on it, were as much furniture as was to

be seen in almost any living-room of the day. Humfrey and Guibert,

too, were already there, with the small riding valises they and

poor Smithers had had in charge. These were at one opened, but

contained merely clothes and linen, nothing else that was noticed,

except three books, at which the captain looked with a stupid air;

and the Chevalier did not seem capable of discovering more than

that all three were Latin--one, he believed, the Bible.

'Yes, sir, the Vulgate--a copy older than the Reformation, so not

liable to be called an heretical version,' said Berenger, to whom a

copy had been given by Lady Walwyn, as more likely to be saved if

his baggage were searched. 'The other is the Office and Psalter

after our English rite; and this last is not mine, but Mr.

Sidney's--a copy of Virgilius Maro, which he had left behind at

Paris.

The Chevalier, not willing to confess that he had taken the English

Prayer-book for Latin, hastily said, 'Nothing wrong there--no, no,

nothing that will hurt the State; may it only be so with what you

carry on your person, fair cousin. Stand back, gentleman, this is

gear for myself alone. Now, fair nephew,' he added, 'not a hand

shall be laid on you, if you will give me your honourable word, as

a nobleman, that you are laying before me all that you carry about

you.

An instant's thought convinced Berenger that resistance would save

nothing, and merely lead to indignity to himself and danger to

Philip; and therefore he gave the promise to show everything about

him, without compulsion. Accordingly, he produced his purse for

current expenses, poor King Charles's safe-conduct, and other

articles of no consequence, from his pockets; then reluctantly

opened his doublet, and took off the belt containing his store of

gold, which had been replenished at Walsingham's. This was

greedily eyed by the captain, but the Chevalier at once made it

over to Philip's keeping, graciously saying, 'We do no more than

duty requires;' but at the same time he made a gesture towards

another small purse that hung round Berenger's neck by a black

ribbon.

'On my sacred word and honour,' said Berenger, 'it contains nothing

important to any save myself.

'Alas! my bounden duty,' urged the Chevalier.

An angry reply died on Berenger's lip. At the thought of Philip,

he opened the purse, and held out the contents on his palm: a tiny

gold ring, a tress of black hair, a fragment of carnation-ribbon

pricked with pin-holes, a string of small worthless yellow shells,

and, threaded with them, a large pear-shaped pearl of countless

price. Even the Chevalier was touched at the sight of this

treasury, resting on the blanched palm of the thin, trembling hand,

and jealously watched by eyes glistening with sudden moisture,

though the lips were firm set. 'Alas! my poor young cousin,' he

said, 'you loved her well.

'Not loved, but love,' muttered Berenger to himself, as if having

recourse to the only cordial that could support him through the

present suffering; and he was closing his fingers again over his

precious hoard, when the Chevalier added, 'Stay! Nephew--that

pearl?

'Is one of the chaplet; the token she sent to England,' he

answered.

'Pauvre petite! Then, at least a fragment remains of the reward

of our ancestor's courage,' said the Chevalier.

And Berenger did not feel it needful to yield up that still better

possession, stored within his heart, that la petite and her

pearls were safe together. It was less unendurable to produce the

leather case from a secret pocket within his doublet, since,

unwilling as he was that any eye should scan the letters it

contained, there was nothing in them that could give any clue

towards tracing her. Nothing had been written or received since

his interview with the children at Lucon. There was, indeed,

Eustacie's letter to his mother, a few received at Paris from Lord

Walwyn, reluctantly consenting to his journey in quest of his

child, his English passport, the unfortunate letters to La Noue;

and what evidently startled the Chevalier more than all the rest,

the copy of the certificate of the ratification of the marriage;

but his consternation was so arranged as to appear to be all on

behalf of his young kinsman. 'This is serious!' he said, striking

his forehead; 'you will be accused of forging the late King's

name.

'This is but a copy,' said Berenger, pointing to the heading; 'the

original has been sent with our Ambassador's dispatches to

England.

'It is a pity,' said the Chevalier, looking thoroughly vexed, 'that

you should have brought fresh difficulties on yourself for a mere

piece of waste paper to be affected by the validity of your

marriage. Dear cousin,'--he glanced at the officer and lowered his

voice,--'let me tear this paper; it would only do you harm, and the

Papal decree annuls it.

'I have given my word,' said Berenger, 'that all that could do me

harm should be delivered up! Besides,' he added, 'even had I the

feeling for my own honour and that of my wife and child, living or

dead, the harm, it seems to me, would be to those who withhold her

lands from me.

'Ah, fair nephew! you have fallen among designing persons who have

filled your head with absurd claims; but I will not argue the point

now, since it becomes a family, not a State matter. These papers'-

-and he took them into his hand--'must be examined, and to-morrow

Captain Delarue will take them to Paris, with any explanation you

may desire to offer. Meantime you and your companions remain my

guest, at full liberty, provided you will give me your parole to

attempt no escape.

'No, sir,' said Berenger, hotly, 'we will not become our own

jailers, nor acquiesce in this unjust detention. I warn you that I

am a naturalized Englishman, acknowledged by the Queen as my

grandfather's heir, and the English Ambassador will inform the

court what Queen Elizabeth thinks of such dealings with her

subjects.

'Well said,' exclaimed Philip, and drawing himself up, he added, 'I

refuse my parole, and warn you that it is at your peril that you

imprison an Englishman.

'Very well, gentlemen,' said the Chevalier; 'the difference will be

that I shall unwillingly be forced to let Captain Delarue post

guards at the outlets of this tower. A room beneath is prepared

for your grooms, and the court is likewise free to you. I will

endeavour to make your detention as little irksome as you will

permit, and meantime allow me to show you your sleeping chamber.

He then politely, as if he had been ushering a prince to his

apartment, led the way, pointing to the door through which they had

entered the keep, and saying, 'This is the only present

communication with the dwelling-house. Two gendarmes will always

be on the outside.' He conducted the young men up a stone spiral

stair to another room, over that which they had already seen, and

furnished as fairly as ordinary sleeping chambers were wont to be.

Here, said their compulsory host, he would leave them to prepare

for supper, when they would do him the honour to join him in the

eating-hall on their summons by the steward.

His departing bow was duly returned by Berenger, but no sooner did

his steps die away on the stairs than the young man threw himself

down on his bed, in a paroxysm of suffering both mental and bodily.

'Berry, Berry, what is this? Speak to me. What does it all mean?

cried Philip.

'How can I tell?' said Berenger, showing his face for a moment,

covered with tears; 'only that my only friend is dead, and some

villainous trick has seized me, just--just as I might have found

her. And I've been the death of my poor groom, and got you into

the power of these vile dastards! Oh, would that I had come alone!

Would that they had had the sense to aim direct!

'Brother, brother, anything but this!' cried Philip. 'The rogues

are not worth it. Sir Francis will have us out in no time, or know

the reason why. I'd scorn to let them wring a tear from me.

'I hope they never may, dear Phil, nor anything worse.

'Now,' continued Philip, 'the way will be to go down to supper,

since they will have it so, and sit and eat at one's ease as if one

cared for them no more than cat and dog. Hark! there's the steward

speaking to Guibert. Come, Berry, wash your face and come.

'I--my head aches far too much, were there nothing else.

'What! it is nothing but the sun,' said Philip. 'Put a bold face

on it, man, and show them how little you heed.

'How LITTLE I heed!' bitterly repeated Berenger, turning his face

away, utterly unnerved between disappointment, fatigue, and pain;

and Philip at that moment had little mercy. Dismayed and vaguely

terrified, yet too resolute in national pride to betray his own

feelings, he gave vent to his vexation by impatience with a

temperament more visibly sensitive than his own: 'I never thought

you so mere a Frenchman,' he said contemptuously. 'If you weep and

wail so like a sick wench, they will soon have their will of you!

I'd have let them kill me before they searched me.

''Tis bad enough without this from you, Phil,' said Berenger,

faintly, for he was far too much spent for resentment or self-

defence, and had only kept up before the Chevalier by dint of

strong effort. Philip was somewhat aghast, both at the involuntary

gesture of pain, and at finding there was not even spirit to be

angry with him: but his very dismay served at the moment only to

feed his displeasure; and he tramped off in his heavy boots, which

he chose to wear as a proof of disdain for his companions. He

explained that M. de Ribaumont was too much fatigued to come to

supper, and he was accordingly marched along the corridor, with the

steward before him bearing a lighted torch, and two gendarmes with

halberds behind him. And in his walk he had ample time for, first,

the resolution that illness, and not dejection, should have all the

credit of Berenger's absence; then for recollecting of how short

standing had been his brother's convalescence; and lastly, for a

fury of self-execration for his own unkindness, rude taunts, and

neglect of the recurring illness. He would have turned about and

gone back at once, but the two gendarmes were close behind, and he

knew Humfrey would attend to his brother; so he walked on to the

hall--a handsome chamber, hung with armour and spoils of hunting,

with a few pictures on the panels, and a great carved music-gallery

at one end. The table was laid out somewhat luxuriously for four,

according to the innovation which was beginning to separate the

meals of the grandees from those of their household.

Great concern was expressed by the Chevalier, as Philip, in French,

much improved since the time of his conversation with Madame de

Selinville, spoke of his brother's indisposition, saying with

emphasis, as he glared at Captain Delarue, that Maitre Pare had

forbidden all exposure to mid-day heat, and that all their journeys

had been made in morning or evening coolness. 'My young friend,'

as his host called him, 'should, he was assured, have mentioned

this, since Captain Delarue had no desire but to make his situation

as little painful as possible.' And the Chevalier sent his steward

at once to offer everything the house contained that his prisoner

could relish for supper; and then anxiously questioned Philip on

his health and diet, obtaining very short and glum answers. The

Chevalier and the captain glanced at each other with little shrugs;

and Philip, becoming conscious of his shock hair, splashed doublet,

and dirty boots, had vague doubts whether his English dignity were

not being regarded as English lubberliness; but, of course, he

hated the two Frenchmen all the more, and received their civility

with greater gruffness. They asked him the present object of his

journey--though, probably, the Chevalier knew it before, and he

told of the hope that they had of finding the child at Lucon.

'Vain, of course?' said the Chevalier. 'Poor infant! It is well

for itself, as for the rest of us, that its troubles were ended

long ago.'

Philip started indignantly.

'Does your brother still nurture any vain hope?' said the

Chevalier.

'Not vain, I trust,' said Philip.

'Indeed! Who can foolishly have so inspired him with a hope that

merely wears out his youth, and leads him into danger?'

Philip held his tongue, resolved to be impenetrable; and he was so

far successful, that the Chevalier merely became convinced that the

brothers were not simply riding to La Rochelle to embark for

England, but had some hope and purpose in view; though as to what

that might be, Philip's bluff replies and stubborn silence were

baffling.

After the meal, the Chevalier insisted on coming to see how his

guest fared; and Philip could not prevent him. They found Berenger

sitting on the side of his bed, having evidently just started up on

hearing their approach. Otherwise he did not seem to have moved

since Philip left him; he had not attempted to undress; and Humfrey

told Philip that not a word had been extracted from him, but

commands to let him alone.

However, he had rallied his forces to meet the Chevalier, and

answered manfully to his excuses for the broiling ride to which he

had been exposed, that it mattered not, the effect would pass, it

was a mere chance; and refused all offers of medicaments, potions,

and TISANES, till his host at length left the room with a most

correct exchange of good nights.

'Berry, Berry, what a brute I have been!' cried Philip.

'Foolish lad!' and Berenger half smiled. 'Now help me to bed, for

the room turns round!'




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