Hector was not present with the army during the last three campaigns of
the war. He had joined Turenne in April, 1646, and shared in the general
disappointment when the order was received that the army was not to
cross the Rhine, because Bavaria had promised to remain neutral if it
did not do so.
“I cannot think,” the marshal said to him a day or two after he received
the order--for he had always maintained the same pleasant relations with
Hector that had subsisted between them in Italy, and placed the most
entire confidence in the discretion of the young colonel--“how Mazarin
can allow Bavaria to hoodwink him. Indeed, I cannot believe that he is
really deceived; he must know that that crafty old fox the duke is not
to be relied upon in any way, and that he is merely trying to save time.
'Tis hard indeed to see us powerless to move, now that the season for
campaigning is just opening, and when by advancing we could cut the
Bavarians off from Austria. As to besieging Luxembourg, it would be but
a waste of time, for before we could open a trench we should hear that
the duke has again declared against us, and we should have to hurry back
with all speed.”
It was, indeed, but a fortnight later that the news came that the
Bavarians were on the move to join the Imperialists, and a fortnight
later it was known that the two armies had effected their junction.
Turenne at once collected his troops from the towns and villages where
they were placed, and marched to Mayence.
“I am going to send you to Paris, Campbell,” he said on the evening
of their arrival there. “All is lost if the enemy, now united, throw
themselves upon the Swedes, and I have resolved to take upon myself the
responsibility of marching round through Holland and joining Wrangel.
There is, of course, risk in such an expedition, and the cardinal may
object very strongly to my undertaking such a movement, especially as
it will leave the frontier of France virtually unguarded, but I have no
fear that evil consequences will arise. The enemy will not hear of
my march until ten days after I have started, and even then they will
probably suppose that we have gone to Flanders. By the time they
find out what my intentions are, it will be too late for them to take
advantage of my absence.
“Even then they would have to storm Philippsburg or some other strong
place before they could cross the Rhine, and before they could do that
Wrangel and I would be at their heels. Moreover, as they would know
that, instead of pursuing them, we might, after effecting a junction,
make straight for Vienna, and that no army could be got together to
oppose us, I consider that the movement is a perfectly safe one. Now,
I am going to send you to Mazarin with my despatch telling him of my
intention. I am choosing you for the purpose, because you will be able
to explain and enforce the reasons that I have given him. He has a high
opinion of you, and will listen to you when perhaps he would not pay
any regard to Rosen or any other of these Weimar officers I might send.
Remember that there is no occasion for extreme hurry,” and he smiled.
“Of course it is necessary that you should travel with a certain amount
of speed, but do not founder your horse. Every day is of value to me,
and if I am once well on my way north Mazarin could hardly recall me.
“Say that you take five days to get to Paris, by that time I should
be north of Cologne, and a courier from Mazarin can hardly overtake me
until I am in Holland, I should then feel justified in disregarding the
order, seeing that I should by pushing on effect a junction with the
Swedes quite as quickly as I could return here. Of course it would be
too late for you to overtake me, and I shall give you a written order
to remain in Paris until I am again so near the Rhine that you can join
your regiment. I consider that it will be an advantage to have you near
the cardinal, as, knowing my intentions and methods as you do, you would
be able to so explain matters to him that he will understand the reasons
for my various movements.”
“Very well marshal, I am ready to start as soon as you hand me the
despatch.”
“I will do that tomorrow morning, and you will then be able to tell
Mazarin that we were just setting out when you left us.”
“As it will be some time before I shall rejoin my regiment, may I ask
you to appoint Captain de Thiou as second colonel? He has now served as
senior captain of the regiment for three years. He aided me heartily and
cordially in organizing it. He has seconded me throughout in a manner
of which I cannot speak too highly, and distinguished himself greatly
at Freiburg, and on every occasion in which we have been in contact with
the enemy. I think it very desirable that there should be an officer of
rank superior to the others while I am away; and both for the sake of
the regiment, and as a reward for the merit and conduct of Captain de
Thiou himself, I should be very glad were he promoted and should feel
that the regiment would in no way deteriorate during my absence.”
“Certainly, Campbell, I will carry out your recommendation. He has
fairly earned his promotion, and as you say, it is better in your
absence that the regiment should be led by an officer of rank above the
others, and not by a captain having but a very slight seniority to some
of them. Doubtless you will be saying goodbye to the officers tonight.
I authorize you to inform de Thiou that he will be placed in orders
tomorrow morning as second colonel of the regiment.”
“I did not think that we were likely to be back in Paris before next
winter, master,” Paolo said rather discontentedly when Hector told him
that they were to start early next morning.
“Nor did I, Paolo, and I should very much rather have remained with the
regiment; but as the marshal is good enough to consider that my presence
there may be of advantage to him, I have of course nothing to say
against it.”
There was great regret among the officers when they heard that their
colonel was not going to lead them, but all were pleased that de Thiou,
who was a general favourite, had obtained promotion. That officer was at
once surprised and gratified at the news, for it was not often that men
without strong family interest rose to the rank of colonel.
“I know that this is your doing,” he said gratefully. “I never expected
to get above my present rank, and I am sure that I should never have
done so had it not been for you.”
“You thoroughly deserve it, de Thiou, for it was by your support that
I was enabled, when I first joined, to introduce reforms, and get the
officers to take upon themselves more work and responsibilities, and
thus make the regiment what it is. I hope I shall rejoin before the end
of the campaign. This may be the last, for now that they have begun the
peace conference at Munster, something must surely come of it sooner or
later, for all parties must be thoroughly sick of this long and terrible
war, which has ruined Germany and impoverished France, and from which
neither party, after nigh thirty years of fighting, has gained any
material advantage. At any rate it will be a great satisfaction to me
to know that the regiment is in your hands. I know that during the time
that I have been away this winter things have gone on satisfactorily;
but it is clearly impossible for an officer to keep a regiment well
in hand when, as in your case, your appointment was only a day or two
earlier than that of some of the others. You are likely to have some
stiff marching now, for only one other infantry regiment besides ours
will accompany the cavalry, the rest will remain here until they get
an opportunity of rejoining. Of course I shall take Paolo and my four
mounted troopers back with me to Paris. I may probably send them on to
la Villar, as it is not likely that I shall need them at court.”
On the evening of the fifth day after leaving Mayence Hector arrived in
Paris, and alighted at the cardinal's hotel.
“So you are again a bearer of despatches, Monsieur Campbell,” the
cardinal said, as Hector entered his apartment. “They need be important,
or the marshal would hardly have sent you with them.”
“They are, as you will see, important, your eminence, but I am sent
rather to explain further than the marshal could do in a letter his
reasons for the step that he has taken. As you have learned long before
this, the Duke of Bavaria has proved false to his promises. He has
effected a junction with the Imperialist army, and the marshal has news
that both are marching against the Swedes, who are in no strength to
show fight against so great a force.”
The cardinal opened the despatch, and read it in silence.
“'Tis a grave step for the marshal to have taken without orders,” he
said, frowning; “and do you mean to say that he has already started on
this expedition?”
“The troops had fallen into their ranks when I started, and by this time
they must be well on their way towards Holland. There was no time, sir,
for the marshal to await a reply to the despatch. The matter was most
urgent, every day was of importance, for if the Swedes fell back, as
they might do, before the archduke, the latter would be able to overrun
all northern Germany, to capture the towns of the Protestant princes,
break up their confederation, and compel them to give in their
submission; for Turenne with his small force would be powerless to
interfere with their operations, even if by pressing after them with all
speed he arrived within striking distance.”
“And think you that he will reach Wrangel in time?”
“He hopes so, sir. He sent off a messenger before starting, with orders
to buy fresh horses at all cost at each halting place, to carry the news
as quickly as possible to Wrangel that he was on his way to join him,
and imploring him to intrench himself in some strong position until he
should come up.
“How long hence will that be?”
“The march will be pressed forward with all speed, your eminence, with
such delays only as may be needed to keep the horses in such a state
that they may be ready for fighting as soon as they join the Swedes. He
hopes to be there in a month from the day of starting.”
“And in the meantime,” Mazarin said, “France is open to invasion.
He says, indeed, that the Imperialists would hardly venture to march
hitherward, as thereby they in turn would leave it open to him and the
Swedes to march into the heart of Austria.”
“Assuredly that is so, sir. The archduke will hardly get news that
Marshal Turenne has moved until he has been some ten or twelve days on
his march, and even when he hears it he will not know in what direction
he has gone, but may think it likely that he either intends to seize
Luxembourg or to reinforce your army in Flanders. By the time they
discover his true object he will be within a week's march of the Swedes,
possibly less than that. It will be too late for them then to think
of marching to the Rhine. If they consider themselves strong enough to
fight the marshal and the Swedes together, they will do so at once; if
they fear to give battle, still more would they fear to be attacked by
him when entering a country where they would have him in their rear,
and be hemmed in between him and the Rhine, not to speak of the risk of
leaving Austria open to invasion, should he, instead of pursuing them,
direct his march thither. If I might presume to judge, I should say that
the expedition that the marshal has undertaken is at once worthy of his
military genius, and will at the same time do far more to ensure the
safety of the Rhine provinces than he could do were he to remain there
with his small army until the Imperialists, having chased the Swedes out
of the country and reduced northern Germany, turned their whole forces
against him.”
“I see, Monsieur Campbell,” the cardinal said, turning the subject,
“that you have been five days coming here from Mayence. It is a very
different rate of speed to that at which you traveled from Rocroi.”
“It is so, your eminence; but on that occasion the Duc d'Enghien had
placed relays of his best horses all along the road, so that we were
enabled to travel without making a halt.”
“And moreover, my dear colonel,” Mazarin said, “Turenne, far from urging
you to haste, was desirous of getting so far before he received my
answer as to render it impossible for me to recall him.”
“I cannot think that your eminence would do that. It is a grand
enterprise, and almost without precedent in point both of daring and in
the great advantages to be gained from it.”
“And Turenne thought that by sending you, you would be able to assist
him in persuading me to regard it favourably. Well, well, it is
certainly too late to recall him now. He has taken the responsibility
upon himself, and must stand or fall by the result. And now in the
first place are you going to hurry back again or are you going to remain
here?”
“My regiment is one of those that he has taken with him, sir, and as I
could not hope to overtake him he has requested me to remain here until
I receive orders from him.”
“We shall be gainers so far,” the cardinal said cordially, “and I am
sure that from your knowledge of the country and of Turenne's methods
your advice upon military matters will be of great service to us. I must
now go and report to the queen this sudden change in the situation, and
if she disapproves of it I shall tell her that if she will but listen
to you, you will convert her to the view that this escapade of the
marshal's is all for the best, and seems likely indeed to retrieve the
position that has been caused by the treachery of Bavaria.”
During his stay in Paris Hector soon found that intrigue was more
rampant than ever. The Duke of Beaufort and others who had been
implicated in the plot on Mazarin's life had been pardoned and had
returned to Paris, and as the lesson that had been given them had taught
them prudence, they were now openly on good terms with the court. They
were secretly, however, intriguing with the parliament of Paris, which
was now bitterly opposed to Mazarin, had refused to register some of
his decrees, and had even forced him to dismiss his superintendent of
finance, an Italian named Emeri. The latter had imposed taxes at his
will to satisfy his extravagance and avarice, had raised the octroi
duty, made the sale of firewood a monopoly, and in various ways had
incurred the indignation and hatred of the Parisians.
Mazarin's own greed had been in no slight degree the cause of his
unpopularity; he who had come to France a penniless priest was now the
owner of great estates. It was even said that much of the money that
should have been devoted to the needs of the army had been privately
sent into Italy by him, and throughout the country it was felt to be
scandalous that while the deepest distress was universal on account of
the weight of taxation, these two Italians should be piling up wealth
for themselves. But, avaricious as he was, the cardinal was lavish
in his expenditure among his friends and adherents; honours, titles,
dignities, and estates were freely bestowed upon them, and he did not
hesitate to pay any sum that would gain him the support of those whose
aid he deemed to be essential. Madame de Chevreuse was again at court,
and was, as she had always been, the centre of the intrigues that were
going on. One evening she made a sign for Hector to take a place by her
side. She had taken a fancy to the young Scottish colonel on the evening
when he had been first introduced to her, and was always gracious to him
now.
“Monsieur le baron,” she said in a low tone, “do you think that the air
of Paris agrees with you as well as that of the army?”
He felt from the manner in which she spoke, that she meant more than she
said.
“So far, madam, it has not disagreed with me,” he said; “and even did
it do so I should not be able to leave it, as I have orders to remain
here.”
“By the way, monsieur,” she said, changing the subject of conversation,
“it is whispered that that party of pleasure to which you took the
officers of your regiment at St. Germain did not come off, at least none
of the landlords of the hotels there can recall any such gathering, and
it is even said that your falling in with the carriage of the Duke of
Orleans was not altogether an accident. I only mention the reports; of
course, it was a matter of no moment whether your party dined at St.
Germain or at Sevres. But sometimes misapprehensions of this kind
lead to trouble, especially when they happen a few days before serious
events. I like you, Colonel Campbell, and that is why I have mentioned
this; you understand me, I have no doubt;” and, turning to a gentleman
who had at that moment approached her, she entered into a lively
conversation with him, and Hector rose, and with the words, “Thank you,
madam,” bowed, and moved away.
It was easy to understand her meaning. Beaufort and the conspirators
whose plan he had thwarted, and who had suffered imprisonment and exile
thereby, had in some way discovered that it was to him that they owed
their failure and disgrace. At the moment his explanation and that of
his officers had deceived them, but doubtless someone whose connection
with the plot was unsuspected had instituted inquiries, found that the
party he had spoken of had not taken place, and had at once come to
the conclusion that he had in some way discovered their intentions, had
really ridden out with his officers to furnish a guard to Mazarin, and
had afterwards acquainted him with what he had discovered. Doubtless,
as Madame de Chevreuse had warned him, the air of Paris was at present
dangerously unwholesome for him. He had been the means of bringing
disgrace and punishment upon the Duc de Vendome and the Duke of
Beaufort, two of the most powerful nobles in France, and a host of their
friends.
It was probable that they only recently assured themselves that it was
he who had thwarted their plans; had it been otherwise he would scarcely
have escaped their vengeance the last time that he was in Paris. Now,
from what Madame de Chevreuse had said, he had no doubt whatever that
some plot would be made against his life. He might thwart one such
attempt, but others would follow. He resolved to lay the matter before
the cardinal and take his advice. Accordingly he waited until he was
leaving; several gentlemen of his suite accompanied him, and at the
entrance to the Louvre the men of the cardinal's guard fell in on either
side. When they reached Mazarin's hotel Hector moved up to him.
“Can I have a few words with you, your eminence?”
“Certainly, Colonel Campbell; I never retire to bed till long past
midnight. It is something serious, I see,” he said quickly as they
entered his apartment, where a number of candles were burning, and he
obtained a full view of Hector's face. “Another plot?”
“Not against your eminence; it is a matter which concerns myself only.
I have been warned tonight that my share in the last affair has been
discovered, that inquiries have been made at St. Germain, and that the
various innkeepers have declared that no party of officers dined there
that morning, and that it was therefore concluded that our presence
behind your carriage was not accidental. They no doubt guessed that
it was I who discovered the plot, in consequence of which so many were
arrested and exiled. I have been distinctly warned that the air of Paris
is unwholesome for me.”
“Who warned you?” the cardinal said abruptly.
“It would not be fair of me to mention the name, but it is at any rate
one who is of Beaufort's party.”
“Ah!” the cardinal said sharply, “I noticed you sitting for a few
minutes by Madame de Chevreuse. Never mind, I will respect your
confidence. I can well understand, after what you have said, that there
is great danger here, and it is a danger from which it is well nigh
impossible to protect you, unless you take up your residence here and
never stir abroad. Nor do I know that you would be safer with the army;
an assassin's knife can reach a man as easily in a camp as in a city,
and with perhaps less risk of detection. Neither Beaufort nor Vendome
are men to forget or forgive an injury, and they have scores of
fellows who would for a few crowns murder anyone they indicated, and of
gentlemen of higher rank who, although not assassins, would willingly
engage you in a duel, especially those who suffered in the plot that you
discovered. Frankly, what do you think yourself?”
“I might retire to la Villar, cardinal. I should be safe there in my own
castle.”
“So long as you did not leave it; but a man with a musket in ambush
behind a hedge might cut your career short. It is probable enough that
you are watched, and in that case I should doubt whether you would ever
get to la Villar, nor do I think that if you left for the Rhine you
would get halfway. Now you see, Monsieur Campbell, that your cause is
mine, and that your safety touches me as if it were my own, for it was
in my service that you incurred the danger. I must think the matter
over. In the meantime I beg of you to sleep here tonight. I will send
word to your servant that you will not return. I could of course send
a guard with you to your hotel, but some of the servants there may
have been bribed to murder you as you slept. I can look after myself; I
seldom leave the house except to go to the Louvre, and I never go even
that short distance without a guard, but it is much more difficult to
protect you.”
“I have my own bodyguard, your excellency--four stout Scotch soldiers
and my lackey, Paolo, who is a good swordsman also; and as it does not
seem to me that I should be safer elsewhere than here, I shall at any
rate stay for a time. I should imagine that the warning was a general
one. They have just found out that I had a hand in thwarting their plot
against you, and I dare say used threats; but the threats of angry men
come very often to nothing; and at any rate, I do not choose that they
should obtain the satisfaction of driving me from Paris against my
will.”
The cardinal shook his head. “You see, monsieur, that Beaufort is a man
who hesitates at nothing. A scrupulous person would hardly endeavour to
slay a cardinal, who is also the minister of France, in the streets of
Paris in broad daylight. He is capable of burning down the Pome d'Or,
and all within it, in order to obtain revenge on you. I feel very uneasy
about you. However, sleep may bring counsel, and we will talk it over
again in the morning.”
“Have you thought of anything, Monsieur Campbell?” Mazarin asked when
they met in the morning.
“I have not, sir, save to go on trusting to my own sword and my
followers.”
“I can think of nothing,” the cardinal said, “save to send an order to
Turenne for two companies of your regiment to march hither, where, on
their arrival, you will receive orders to proceed with them to your
castle of la Villar, and to use them in the king's service in repressing
all troubles that may occur in Poitou. What say you to that?”
“I would not deprive her majesty of two hundred of her best soldiers
to guard me from what may not be after all a very real danger. My own
conclusions, after thinking it over this morning, are that I will remain
here for a time, trusting to my friends and my own sword. If a serious
attempt is made on my life I could then consider whether it would be
best to withdraw myself, and if so, whither to go; but I will not run
away merely on a vague hint that my life is in danger. I have faced
death in battle many times, and this danger can hardly be considered
as more serious. I imagine that in the first case some of the
duke's followers will force me into a duel, before proceeding to try
assassination, and although doubtless he has some good blades among his
friends, I do not think that I need to feel uneasy on that score. I was
always practising with my sword as a boy. Since I have been in the army
I have spent a good deal of my time, when in winter quarters, in such
practice with my own officers, and with any maitres d'armes in the towns
where I have been, and while in Italy had the opportunity of learning
much, for there are fine fencers there.”
“So be it, then,” Mazarin said. “But if matters go to extremes, remember
that I consider myself responsible for you. I believe that you saved my
life, and although there are many things that men say against me, none
have ever charged me with ingratitude. If I can protect you in no other
way I shall have you arrested, sent to the frontier, that is to say, to
the sea frontier, and put on board ship and sent to England or Scotland,
as you choose, with a chest containing a sum that will suffice to
purchase any estate you may choose there.
“I am in earnest,” he went on as Hector was about to answer. “It is
for my own sake as much as yours; when my friends are attacked I am
attacked, and I am doubly bound in your case. It needs but a stroke of
my pen to make you a duke and lord of half a province; and if I cannot
do that here, because you would still be within reach of your enemies, I
can, as far as the estates go, do it for you abroad. Do not fail to let
me know each day if anything new takes place.”
Hector felt that there was no more to say, and bowing, left the
cardinal's presence and went out. Paolo and Macpherson were waiting
outside.
“The cardinal's messenger, who brought the news last night that you
would not return, master,” the former said when he saw by Hector's look
of surprise that he had not expected to see him there, “said also that
I and one of your men had best be here at eight this morning and wait
until you came out.”
“I did not know that he had sent such a message, Paolo, but I will when
we get to the hotel tell you why he sent it.”
The street was somewhat crowded, and Hector had gone but a short
distance when he saw three gentlemen, who he knew to be intimates of
the Duke of Beaufort, coming in the other direction. One of them was
Monsieur de Beauvais, who said in a loud tone to his companions just as
Hector was passing:
“That is the Scotchman whom the cardinal employs to do his dirty
business.”
Hector faced round at once. “At any rate, Monsieur de Beauvais, the
Scotchman in question is not employed by the cardinal as an assassin,
which is an even more dishonourable post.”
De Beauvais turned white with anger. “Behind the Luxembourg in an hour's
time, Monsieur de Villar.”
“I shall be there,” Hector said coldly. He paused a minute, after the
three gentlemen, with the customary salute, walked on. He did not like
to go to the Hotel Mazarin lest the cardinal should obtain news of what
was going to take place, so he waited in the neighbourhood, knowing that
some of Mazarin's personal friends would be sure to arrive about this
hour. Presently he saw a colonel who, like himself, was spending the
winter in Paris, and who frequently attended the cardinal's levees.
“Colonel de Serres, as a fellow soldier I have a service to ask of you.”
“I am entirely at your disposal, Monsieur Campbell.”
“I have just had a quarrel forced upon me by Monsieur de Beauvais, and
I have to meet him in fifty minutes' time at the back of the Luxembourg.
As he was in company with two gentlemen, the Comte de Marplat and
Monsieur de Vipont, I shall be glad if you would kindly act as my
second, and if you can find another officer who would do so, I shall be
glad of his services also.”
“I shall be glad to support you, Monsieur Campbell, and can lay my hand
on another second at once, for here comes my friend and yours, Monsieur
Emile de Chavigny, who will, like myself, be charmed to be concerned in
any affair against the duke's friends.”
De Chavigny, whom Hector had seen at the court on the previous day
for the first time since they had parted in Italy, agreed at once to
Hector's request.
“De Beauvais has the reputation of being a good swordsman, Campbell,”
he said as they walked together towards the Luxembourg, Paolo and his
companion having now returned to the inn at his master's order; “but I
should say that he will want all his skill now. You were by far the best
swordsman among us when you left us suddenly in the south, and doubtless
since then your skill will not have fallen off.”
“No, I know a good deal more than I knew then, Chavigny. There were few
days when we were in winter quarters that I had not an hour's work in
the fencing school with the officers of my regiment, and whenever I
heard that there was a professor of the art I have never failed to
frequent his salon and to learn his favourite strokes.”
“That is all right, then. We need have no fear whatever as to the
result.”
They reached the point fixed upon a minute or two before the clock
struck, and just as it chimed de Beauvais and his friends made their
appearance. The seconds exchanged a few words and selected a piece of
ground for the encounter, the principals at once removed their doublets
and faced each other.
“This is a duel a la mort,” de Beauvais said in a loud voice.
“For that I am quite prepared,” Hector said quietly; “but you are likely
to find, Monsieur de Beauvais, that it is not so easy a thing to
kill the colonel of one of her majesty's regiments as it is to stab a
churchman in his carriage.”
De Beauvais at once took up his position, and, without the parade of
courtesy that usually preceded an encounter, fell furiously upon Hector.
The latter did not give way a step. With a wrist of iron he put aside
half a dozen thrusts, and then lunging, ran de Beauvais through the
body, his sword hilt striking against his adversary's chest.
De Beauvais' two seconds ran forward as their principal fell. “He is
dead,” one said as they knelt over him. Then rising he addressed Hector:
“Monsieur le Colonel Campbell,” he said, “I claim satisfaction at your
hands, for I take it that your words applied to me as well as to de
Beauvais, though addressed only to him.”
“You may take it so,” Hector replied coldly, “for you were also at that
house in the Rue St. Honore on that occasion you know of.”
Hector's two seconds endeavoured to interpose, but he said: “Gentlemen,
I must ask you to let the matter go on. This is no ordinary duel. These
gentlemen, with whom I have no personal animosity, have picked a quarrel
with me at the request of one higher in rank than themselves, and are
simply his agents. I had no hesitation in killing the first of them, but
as Monsieur de Vipont wishes an encounter with me in spite of what he
has seen I will give him one, but will content myself with a less severe
lesson than that I have given Monsieur de Beauvais. Now, sir, I am at
your service.”
De Vipont, knowing now how dangerous an opponent he was meeting, fought
cautiously. Hector, however, was anxious to finish the matter before
they were interrupted, and therefore took the offensive, and after two
passes ran his antagonist through the shoulder.
“Now, Monsieur le Comte, do you desire a turn?” he said carelessly.
The count was pale, but he answered steadily, “I claim it by the same
right as Monsieur de Vipont.”
“Agreed,” Hector said; and as soon as the count had removed his upper
garments they engaged.
The swords had scarcely clashed when the count's weapon was wrenched
from his hand and sent flying for a distance of twenty paces.
“That is enough,” Colonel de Serres said, stepping forward; “you have
done what you thought to be your duty, Monsieur le Comte, but it needs
very different blades from those of yourself and your companions to
stand before Colonel Campbell. He had you at his mercy, and had a right
to take your life if he chose; but as he refrained from doing that
when you had your sword in your hand, he certainly will not do so now.
Messieurs, we wish you good morning.”
“And you may mention,” Hector added, “to this person of high rank,
that I shall be happy to accommodate as many of the gentlemen of his
following as choose to take the matter up.”
“He will send no more to you, Campbell,” Chavigny said as they moved
off, leaving the count, whose valet now ran up, to obtain a vehicle and
carry his dead and wounded comrades away.
“No, I fancy not; he will try other means now. The war has only begun.
Men like Lei, Brillet, and the Campions are not the sort of men who
would act as bravos, even for the Duke of Beaufort, and I do not think
that he would even venture to propose it to them. It will be meaner
instruments that he will employ next time. However, I shall of course
go straight to the cardinal and acquaint him with what has happened.
I doubt not but that he will lay the matter before the queen, and then
that Beaufort will hear of it; but, passionate and revengeful as he is,
I think that he will not be turned from his purpose, even if he knows
that he may be forced to retire to his estates, or even leave the
country till the matter blows over.”