The baron sent a servant to request his daughter to come down.
"I am going now, with Monsieur Kennedy, to the palace, Anne," he
said, as she entered. "I do not suppose that we shall be absent
very long. I have been talking matters over with him, and I think
that he agrees with my view of them."
"But I have hardly spoken to him, yet, father!"
"You will have an opportunity of doing so, when we return.
Monsieur Kennedy will, of course, dine with us. After the service
that he has rendered to us, we have a right to consider him as
belonging to us."
"Had I had an idea of this," Desmond said, as they walked up the
hill towards the palace gate, "I should have put on my full
uniform. This undress is scarcely the attire in which one would
appear before the King of France, who is, as I have heard, most
particular in matters of etiquette."
"He is so," the baron said. "He will know that you could not be
prepared for an audience, and doubtless he will receive you in his
private closet."
On ascending the grand staircase, the baron gave his name to one
of the court chamberlains.
"I have orders," the latter said, "to take you at once, on your
presenting yourself, to His Majesty's closet, instead of entering
the audience chamber."
They were conducted along a private passage, of considerable
length. On arriving at a door, the chamberlain asked them to wait,
while he went inside to ascertain whether His Majesty was
disengaged.
"His Majesty will see you in a few minutes, Baron," he said, when
he came out. "The Duc d'Orleans is with him, but, hearing your
name announced for a private audience, he is taking his leave."
In two or three minutes a handbell sounded in the room, and the
chamberlain, who at once entered, returned in a moment, and
conducted the baron and Desmond into the king's private apartment.
"Allow me to present, to Your Majesty," the former said, "Monsieur
Desmond Kennedy, an officer in O'Brien's regiment, and an Irish
gentleman of good family."
The king, who was now far advanced in life, looked at the young
man with some surprise.
"I had expected to see an older man," he said.
"Though you told me, Baron, he was but an ensign, I looked to see
a man of the same type as so many of my gallant Irish officers,
ready for any desperate service.
"So, young sir, you have begun early, indeed, to play havoc among
my liege subjects, for I hear that you, and a soldier with you,
slew four of them."
"Hardly your liege subjects, Your Majesty, if I may venture to say
so; for, assuredly, they were not engaged in lawful proceedings,
when I came upon them."
A slight smile crossed the king's face. He was accustomed to
adulation, and the simple frankness with which this young soldier
ventured to discuss the propriety of the word he used surprised
and amused him.
"You are right, sir. These fellows, who are ready to undertake any
service, however criminal, for which they are paid, certainly do
not deserve to be called liege subjects. Now, I would hear from,
your own lips, how it was that you thrust yourself into a matter
with which you had no concern; being wholly ignorant, I
understand, that the lady whose voice you heard was Mademoiselle
Pointdexter."
"The matter was very simple, Sire. Having joined the regiment but
a few months, and being naturally anxious to perfect myself in
exercises in arms, I have but little time to stir out, during the
day, and of an evening I frequently go for long rambles, taking
with me my soldier servant. I had, that evening, gone farther than
usual, the night being fair and the weather balmy, and naturally,
when I heard the cry of a woman in distress, I determined to see
what had happened, as it might well be that murder was being
done."
He then related all the circumstances of his obtaining an entrance
into the gardens, of the attack upon him by the guard, and how he
finally brought Mademoiselle Pointdexter to Versailles. The king
listened attentively.
"It was an exploit I should have loved to perform, when I was your
age, Monsieur Kennedy. You behaved in the matter with singular
discretion and gallantry; but, if you intend always to interfere,
when you hear a woman cry out, it is like that your time will be
pretty well occupied; and that, before long, there will be a
vacancy in the ranks of your regiment. Truly, Monsieur le Baron
and his daughter have reason for gratitude that you happened to be
passing at the time; and I, as King of France, am glad that this
outrage on a lady of the court has failed.
"I am, perhaps, not altogether without blame in the matter. A
short time ago, the Vicomte de Tulle told me that he hoped to
better his fortune by a rich marriage. He named no names, nor said
aught of the measures he intended to adopt. But I said it would be
well that he should do so, for rumours had reached me that his
finances were in disorder. Whether he took this as a permission to
use any means that he thought fit I cannot tell; and I certainly
did not suspect, when I heard of the disappearance of Mademoiselle
de Pointdexter, that he had any hand in it, and was shocked when
the baron came here and denounced him to me. I am glad, indeed,
that his enterprise was thwarted, for it was a most unworthy one.
"You are too young, yet, for me to grant you military promotion,
but this will be a proof of my approbation of your conduct, and
that the King of France is determined to suppress all irregularities
at his court."
And, taking a diamond ring from his finger, he handed it to
Desmond, who went on one knee to receive it.
"You will please inform your colonel that, when he comes to
Versailles, I request he will always bring you with him."
The audience was evidently finished, and the baron and Desmond,
bowing deeply, left the king's cabinet. The baron did not speak,
till they left the palace.
"Louis has his faults," the baron then said, "but no one could
play the part of a great monarch more nobly than he does. I have
no doubt, whatever, that de Tulle relied implicitly upon obtaining
his forgiveness, had he succeeded in forcing Anne into marrying
him; though, doubtless, he would have feigned displeasure for a
time. He has extricated himself most gracefully. I can quite
believe that he did not imagine his favourite intended to adopt so
criminal a course, to accomplish the matter of which he spoke to
him, but he could not fail to have his suspicions, when he heard
of Anne's disappearance. However, we can consider the affair as
happily ended, except for the matter of Monsieur de la Vallee, of
whom I spoke to you.
"And now, sir, that the king has expressed his gratitude to you,
for saving his court from a grave scandal, how can I fitly express
my own, at the inestimable service that you have rendered us?"
"I should say, Baron, that it will be most welcomely expressed, if
you will abstain from saying more of the matter. It is a simple
one. I went to the assistance of a woman in distress; and
succeeded, at the expense of this trifling wound, in accomplishing
her rescue. The lady happened to be your daughter, but had she
been but the daughter of some little bourgeois of Paris, carried
off by a reckless noble, it would have been the same. Much more
has been made of the matter than there was any occasion for. It
has gained for me the approbation and thanks of the king, to say
nothing of this ring, which, although I am no judge of such
matters, must be a very valuable one, or he would not have worn
it; and I have had the pleasure of rendering a service to you, and
Mademoiselle de Pointdexter. Therefore, I feel far more than duly
rewarded, for a service somewhat recklessly undertaken on the spur
of the moment."
"That may be very well, as far as it interests yourself, Monsieur
Kennedy; but not so far as I am concerned, and I fear I shall have
to remain your debtor till the end of my life. All I can say at
present is that I hope that, as soon as you can obtain leave, you
will come as a most honoured guest to my chateau. There you will
see me under happier circumstances. The life of a country seigneur
is but a poor preparation for existence in this court, where,
although there is no longer the open licentiousness that prevailed
in the king's younger days, there is yet, I believe, an equal
amount of profligacy, though it has been sternly discountenanced
since Madame Maintenon obtained an absolute, and I may say a
well-used, influence over His Majesty."
"I shall be happy, indeed, to pay you a visit, Baron, if my
military duties will permit my absenting myself, for a time, from
Paris. All I know of France is its capital, and nothing would give
me greater pleasure than to have the opportunity of seeing its
country life, in so pleasant a manner."
"Our pleasure would be no less than your own, Monsieur Kennedy.
"There is one thing I must warn you about, and that is, you must
be careful for a time not to go out after dark. De Tulle has an
evil reputation, and is vindictive as well as unscrupulous.
Doubtless, he has agents here who will, by this time, have
discovered who it was that brought his daring scheme to naught;
and it is, to my mind, more than probable that he will endeavour
to be revenged."
"I shall be on my guard," Desmond said quietly.
"You must be careful, indeed," the baron said. "Against open
violence you can well defend yourself, but against a blow from
behind with a dagger, skill and courage are of little avail. When
you go out after dark, I pray you let your army servant follow
closely behind you, and see that his sword is loose in its
scabbard."
Desmond nodded.
"Believe me, I will take every precaution. It is not likely that
there will long be need for it, for none can doubt that military
operations will soon begin on a large scale, and we are not
likely, if that is the case, to be kept in garrison in Paris."
When Desmond arrived that evening at the barracks, he found that
the story of the rescue of Mademoiselle de Pointdexter was already
known, and also that the Vicomte de Tulle had been the abductor,
and had, in consequence, been banished from court. The baron had
indeed related the circumstances to some of his intimate friends,
but the story had varied greatly as it spread, and it had come to
be reported that an officer had brought a strong body of soldiers,
who had assaulted the house where she was confined, and, after a
desperate conflict, had annihilated the guard that had been placed
over her.
Desmond laughed, as this story was told to him, when he entered
the room where the officers were gathered. The narrator concluded:
"As you have been to Versailles, Kennedy, doubtless you will have
heard all the latest particulars. Have you learnt who was the
officer, what regiment he belonged to, and how came he to have a
body of soldiers with him, outside the town? For they say that the
house where she was confined was a mile and a half beyond the
walls."
There was no longer any reason for concealment. The matter had
become public. The baron would certainly mention his name, and
indeed his visit to the palace, and the private audience given to
him and the baron, would assuredly have been noted.
"Your story is quite new to me," he said, "and is swollen, in the
telling, to undue proportions. The real facts of the case are by
no means so romantic. The truth of the story, by this time, is
generally known, as Mademoiselle Pointdexter and her father have
many friends at court. The affair happened to myself."
"To you, Kennedy?" was exclaimed, in astonishment, by all those
present.
"Exactly so," he said. "Nothing could have been more simple. The
evening before last I was, as usual, taking a walk and, the night
being fine, I passed beyond the gate. Presently, I heard a scream
and a woman's cry for help. None of you, gentlemen, could have
been insensible to such an appeal. Callaghan and I climbed over a
pretty high gate. Not knowing what force there might be in the
place, we occupied ourselves, at first, by unbarring and shooting
the lock of the gate. The bolts were stiff, and we made some noise
over it, which brought out five men. These we disposed of, after a
short fight, in which I got this graze on the cheek, and Callaghan
his sword wound in the shoulder."
"How did you dispose of them, Kennedy?" the colonel asked.
"I ran two of them through. Callaghan cut down one, and shot
another. The fifth man cried for mercy, and we simply tied him up.
"We then found Mademoiselle Pointdexter, and, learning from her
that the carriage in which she had been brought there was, with
its horses, still in the stable, we got it out, harnessed the
horses, and put an old woman who was mademoiselle's attendant in
the carriage with her. Mike took the reins, I mounted a saddle
horse, and we drove her to her father's house at Versailles, saw
her fairly inside, and then, as you know, got back here just as
the regiment was forming up on parade."
"A very pretty adventure, indeed," the colonel said warmly, and
loud expressions of approbation rose from the other listeners.
"And why did you not tell us, when you came in?" the colonel went
on.
"I had not seen Baron Pointdexter, and did not know what course he
would take--whether he would think it best to hush the matter up
altogether, or to lay a complaint before the king; and, until I
knew what he was going to do, it seemed to me best that I should
hold my tongue, altogether.
"When I went to Versailles, today, I found that he had laid his
complaint before the king, and that the Vicomte de Tulle, who was
the author of the outrage, had been ordered to his estates. I may
say that I had the honour of a private interview with His Majesty,
who graciously approved of my conduct, and gave me this ring," and
he held out his hand, "as a token of his approval."
"Well, gentlemen, you will agree with me," the colonel said, "that
our young ensign has made an admirable debut, and I am sure that
we are all proud of the manner in which he has behaved; and our
anticipations, that he would prove a credit to the regiment, have
been verified sooner than it seemed possible."
"They have, indeed, Colonel," the major said. "It was, in every
way, a risky thing for him to have attempted. I do not mean
because of the odds that he might have to face, but because of the
trouble that he might have got into, by forcing his way into a
private house. The scream might have come from a mad woman, or
from a serving wench receiving a whipping for misconduct."
"I never thought anything about it, Major. A woman screamed for
help, and it seemed to me that help should be given. I did not
think of the risk, either from armed men inside--for I had no
reason to believe that there were such--or of civil indictment for
breaking in. We heard the cry, made straight for the house, and,
as it turned out, all went well."
"Well, indeed," the colonel said. "You have rescued a wealthy
heiress from a pitiable fate. You have fleshed your maiden sword
in the bodies of two villains. You have earned the gratitude of
the young lady and her father, and have received the approval of
His Majesty--a very good night's work, altogether. Now, tell us a
little more about it."
Desmond was compelled to tell the story in much further detail
than before. The colonel ordered in a dozen of champagne, and it
was late before the party broke up.
"You see, we were pretty nearly right in our guess," O'Neil said,
as he and O'Sullivan walked across with Desmond to their quarters.
"We said that we thought it likely she might have been carried off
by one of the court gallants, who felt tolerably confident that,
if successful, the king would overlook the offence. This fellow,
thanks to your interference, did not succeed; and the king has let
him off, lightly enough, by only banishing him from court. If it
had been anyone but one of his favourites, he would, by this time,
have been a tenant of the Bastille.
"I do not think, myself, that his punishment was adequate; but
then, I am not a courtier, and should be rather glad than not, to
be sent away to any estates I might have."
"But," Desmond remarked, "I suppose the punishment is a severe one
to these men, accustomed to a round of pleasure and dissipation,
and who consider it the highest of earthly honours to be in favour
with the king. However, no one could be kinder than His Majesty
has been, on the subject. At the reception last night, at which he
ordered the baron and his daughter to appear, he showed her the
most marked favour, and particularly put a stop to all scandals,
by saying loudly that de Tulle had never seen her, after the first
morning of her capture."
Six days later, when Desmond was engaged in the fencing room,
Callaghan came in, and told him that a gentleman was at his
quarters, wishing particularly to see him.
"What is his name?"
"Sure, and I don't know, your honour. He did not mention it, and
it was not for the likes of me to ask him."
"Ridiculous, Mike! In future, when anyone comes and wishes to see
me, you will say, 'What name shall I tell Mr. Kennedy?'"
He put on his uniform coat reluctantly, for he was engaged in an
interesting bout with a professor, who was an old friend of the
maitre d'armes. As he entered his room, a young man, who had been
staring out of the window, and drumming impatiently with his
fingers, turned. He was a stranger to Desmond.
"I am Desmond Kennedy, sir," the young officer said. "To what do I
owe the honour of this visit?"
The other did not reply, but stood looking at him, in so strange
and earnest a way, that Desmond felt almost uneasy.
"Sir," his visitor said at last, advancing to him and holding out
both hands, "when I tell you that my name is Philip de la Vallee,
you will understand what must strike you as my singular behaviour.
I arrived last night at Versailles, and heard all that had
happened. You can imagine, therefore, that my heart is almost too
full for words, with gratitude and thankfulness."
Desmond was moved by the emotion of his visitor, and their hands
met in a hearty clasp. Monsieur de la Vallee was a young man, of
four or five and twenty, well proportioned, and active and sinewy
from his devotion to field sports. He was about the same height as
Desmond himself, but the latter, who had not yet finished growing,
was larger boned, and would broaden into a much bigger and more
powerful man.
"Henceforth, Monsieur Kennedy," de la Vallee went on, "I hope that
we shall be as brothers, and more. Had it not been for you, my
life would have been a ruined one. What agony have I been saved!
It makes me mad, to think that I was idling at home, ignorant that
my beloved had been carried away. I do not blame the baron for not
informing me, and I acknowledge that the reasons he gave me were
good ones. I could have done nothing, and should but have added to
his troubles by my anxiety and anger. Still, he told me that, in
another day or two, he would have felt that I ought no longer to
be kept in the dark, and would have summoned me to Paris. I am
thankful now that he did not do so, for I believe that my
impotence to do anything would have driven me almost to
distraction."
"I agree with you that the baron acted wisely," Kennedy said. "Had
not chance, or Providence, taken me past the house where she was
imprisoned, at the very moment when Mademoiselle Pointdexter cried
for help, she might, for aught I can say, have remained a captive
there for months, or even years."
"It was Providence, indeed, Monsieur Kennedy. Providence, not only
that she should have cried at that moment, but that her cries
should have reached the ears of one so ready and able to save her.
And now, I pray you, call me Philip, and allow me to call you
Desmond, as a pledge of our close friendship."
"With pleasure," Kennedy replied; and the compact was sealed with
another close grasp of the hand.
"It is strange, Desmond, that while the king, who had but little
interest in the matter, could present you, as I am told he did,
with a diamond ring, the baron and I, who owe you so much, can do
nothing to show our gratitude."
Desmond smiled.
"I can assure you that I need no such tokens," he said. "The
thanks that I have received, from you both, are infinitely more
grateful to me than any amount of rings and jewels."
"And now, my friend," Philip de la Vallee went on, "my own burning
desire is to go to de Tulle, as soon as I have accompanied the
baron and Anne to their home; first, to publicly chastise this
villain noble; and then, of course, to fight him. Naturally, I
have said nothing of this to the baron, but I feel, after what has
happened, that in you I shall find an adviser, and a sympathizer."
"I sympathize with you, most heartily, Philip, and in your place
should feel the same impulse; and yet, it would not be wise to
give way to it. I say this on the ground that he is a notoriously
good swordsman, and that, instead of your taking vengeance upon
him, he might kill you.
"I feel that that argument would not have any influence with you
personally, but, taking your position with regard to Mademoiselle
de Pointdexter, it should have great weight. You can judge, from
what you would have felt yourself, had you been aware of her
disappearance, what she would feel, did she hear of your death in
this quarrel. Were you her brother, I should say that you would be
right--nay, that it would be your duty to endeavour to punish the
outrage against the honour of your family. Were you openly
betrothed to her, you would again have the right to punish her
abductor; but, not being either her brother or her betrothed,
neither reason nor public opinion would justify your doing so.
Moreover, did you fight with him and kill him, you would incur the
gravest resentment of the king; for, in fact, you would be
impugning his justice, which has considered banishment from court
to be a sufficient punishment for his offence. Not only was he a
favourite of the king's, but he belongs, I understand, to a
powerful family; who would, you may be sure, use their influence
with the king to bring about your punishment, for the breach of
the decree against duelling, and you would be fortunate if you
escaped a long imprisonment."
The other was silent.
"I feel that you are right," he said, at last, "but, indeed, it is
hard that I should not be able to avenge this outrage upon the
lady who is to be my wife. I may tell you that, as soon as we
return home, our formal betrothal is to take place, and ere long
our marriage will be celebrated; but I shall feel lowered, in my
own esteem, if I sit down quietly under this injury."
"I do not see that," Desmond said. "If you abstain from
challenging de Tulle, it is from no fear of the consequences, but
it is, as I have shown you, because, whatever the issue of the
contest, it would be bad both for you and her. If you were killed,
her life would be spoilt. If you killed him, you might languish
for years in one of the royal prisons. The king prides himself on
his justice, and, by all accounts, rightly so; and I am sure that
he would feel the deepest resentment, were you or anyone to show,
by your actions, that you considered he has favoured the
transgressor."
"You are right, Desmond; and, at any rate for the present, I will
put my intention aside; but should he ever cross my path,
assuredly I will have a reckoning with him.
"But how is it that you, who are at least eight years younger than
I am, should argue as an old counsellor rather than a young
ensign?"
"I suppose, in the first place, it is from my bringing up. I lived
with and was educated by a good priest, one not wanting in
manliness and energy, but who often deplored the system of
duelling, which is as strong with us as it is here, and denounced
it as a relic of barbarism, and, at any rate, never to be put in
use on account of a heated quarrel over wine, but only if some
deadly injury had been inflicted, and even then better left alone.
Of course, as an officer in one of His Majesty's regiments, I
should be obliged to conform to the general usage; for, did I
decline, I should be regarded as having brought dishonour on the
corps. But my case differs altogether from yours.
"In the next place, knowing you were coming to Versailles, I
thought over what course you would be likely to pursue, and
considered it was probable you would lose no time in challenging
de Tulle. I have thought the matter over, in every light, and made
up my mind to endeavour to dissuade you from doing so, if the
opportunity offered.
"So you see," he added with a smile, "I had prepared my array of
arguments against it; and I cannot but think that the opinion of
one interested, but not vitally so, on a point, is rather to be
taken than that of a person smarting under an injury."
"And now, to turn to other matters. In three days we start for the
south. The baron accompanied me here, and went to see your
colonel, while I came to your quarters. His object was to ask him
to grant you a month's leave of absence, with the provision, of
course, that you should return at once, if the regiment was
ordered on service."
"It is kind, indeed, of him," Desmond said, "but I doubt whether
the colonel will assent. It is not a month since I was dismissed
from drill, and took my place with my company, and I doubt whether
he will consider that I am sufficiently versed in my duties, or
that, after being so short a time in the regiment, I have any
right to leave."
"What you say is right enough, under ordinary circumstances, but
these are altogether extraordinary. Then, after what you have
done, he will feel it but natural that we should wish to have you
with us for a time. Moreover, I do not consider that our journey
will be altogether unattended by danger. From what I have heard of
de Tulle, he is a man who never forgives, and will pursue his
object with the pertinacity of a bloodhound. He has failed in his
first attempt, but there is no reason why he should not renew it,
confident, perhaps, that if successful the king, though he may
feel it necessary to feign much anger for a time, will finally
forgive him and take him into favour again, especially as his
family would bring all their influence to bear to bring this
about. Doubtless, he will be kept perfectly informed of what is
going on here. There are several forests to be traversed on the
way, and these are, for the most part, the haunts of robber bands;
and, should the carriage be found overturned, and the baron and
his daughter missing, it would be put down as their work. Having
the baron as well as his daughter in his power, de Tulle would
find it easier than before to compel Anne to purchase her father's
freedom, as well as her own, by consenting to his terms.
"Therefore, you see, the aid of a sword like yours would be
valuable, and no doubt your servant, who is also a sturdy fighter,
will accompany us."
"I can hardly think that de Tulle would venture upon so bold a
stroke as that, and yet he might do so. Men of that kind are not
accustomed to be thwarted, and it would be a satisfaction to his
resentment at his former failure, as well as the attainment of the
wide estates of which Anne is heiress."
At this moment there was a knock at the door, and the baron
entered.
"My dear Monsieur Kennedy," he said, "I have succeeded. Colonel
O'Brien has been pleased to say that you have been so assiduous,
in learning your duties, that he considers you as capable of
performing them as any of his subalterns; and that you have just
brought so much credit on the regiment, that he is pleased to be
able to grant the favour I asked. Here is your furlough, duly
signed. Now it only rests with yourself, to accept or refuse my
invitation."
"I accept it most gladly, Baron. It will give me the greatest
pleasure to accompany you, and mademoiselle, and Monsieur de la
Vallee, whom I now regard as a dear friend, to your home."
"That is settled, then," the baron said. "We start early on
Thursday morning. It would be well, therefore, if you were to ride
over on Wednesday evening, and occupy one of the many spare
chambers there are in the house."
"I will do so willingly; and I shall ask the colonel to allow my
servant to accompany me."
"That is already settled. I told Colonel O'Brien that I owed much
to him also, and he at once acceded to my request, saying that,
although the wound is healing, the surgeon said that it would be a
fortnight, yet, before he will be fit for service; and, moreover,
that it was a custom when an officer went on leave that he should,
if he wished it, take his soldier servant with him."
"Thank you again, Baron. Mike is a faithful fellow, and a shrewd
one. I am so accustomed now to his services that I should miss
them, and his talk, very much."
"Have you heard, Mike," Desmond asked, when his servant came up to
his room, after the baron and Philip de la Vallee had left, "that
you are to go with me, to stay for a month, at Pointdexter?"
"I have, your honour. Sure, I was sent for to the colonel's
quarters, and there I found a tall gentleman, whom I had never
seen before, as far as I knew.
"'This is Mike Callaghan, Mr. Kennedy's servant,' the colonel
said, and the baron stepped forward, and shook hands with me, for
all the world as if I had been a noble like himself; and he said:
"'My brave fellow, I have to thank you for the aid you gave your
master in rescuing my daughter, in which service you received the
wound which still keeps your arm in a sling. Here is a token that
we are not ungrateful for the service. If you will take my advice,
you will hand it to an agent of mine here in Paris, who will keep
it for you, and you may find it useful when the time comes for you
to take your discharge.'
"So saying, he put a heavy purse into my hand, and said:
"'You will find my agent's name and address on a card inside the
purse. I shall go round to him, now, and tell him that you are
coming, and that he is to use the money to your advantage, and to
hand it over to you whenever you choose to ask for it. Your master
is coming down to stay for a month with me, and Colonel O'Brien
has granted leave for you to accompany him.'
"I thanked him heartily, as you may believe, sir; though, as I
said, I wanted no reward for obeying your orders, and for the
share I took in that little skirmish. After I came out, I looked
into the purse, which was mighty heavy, expecting to find a
handful of crowns; and it fairly staggered me when I found that it
was full of gold pieces, and on counting them, found that there
were a hundred louis. Never did I dream that I should be so rich.
Why, your honour, when I lave the regiment, which will not be for
many a long year, I hope, I shall be able to settle down
comfortably, for the rest of my life, in a snug little shebeen, or
on a bit of land with a cottage and some pigs, and maybe a cow or
two; and it is all to your honour I owe it, for if you hadn't
given the word, it would never have entered my head to attack a
gentleman's house, merely because I heard a woman scream."
"Well, I am heartily glad, Mike; and I hope that you will take it
straight to the agent's, and not break in upon it, by treating
half the regiment to drink."
"I will, your honour. It was given me to stow away for the time
when I might want it, and though I don't say that my own
inclinations would not lead me to trate a few of the boys, I feel
that I ought to do what the gentleman told me."
"Certainly you should, Mike. If you once began to spend it in that
way, it is not one louis, but five or more, that would disappear
in a few hours. I am heartily glad that the baron has so
handsomely rewarded you for the service, and if you like, I will
go round with you this afternoon to his agent, and see the money
safely deposited."
"Thank you, your honour. I sha'n't feel easy, as long as I have
got it in my pouch. I should suspict everyone who came near me,
and should never dare take my hand off it, lest someone else might
put his in."
"You are a lucky fellow, Kennedy," O'Neil said, when Desmond told
his two comrades of the arrangements that had been made. "And, if
you go on like this, the regiment will believe that any good
fortune that may fall to its lot is the result of your luck."
"I really do not like having leave given to me, when I have been
such a short time in the regiment. It does not seem fair upon
others."
"No one will grudge you that," O'Sullivan said. "It is not as if
we were at home. Then, of course, everyone would like his turn.
But here, although we are soldiers of France, we are as strangers
in the land. Here in Paris we have many acquaintances, and a
welcome at most of the receptions; but that is the end of it. It
is seldom, indeed, that we are invited into the country houses of
those we know. That sort of hospitality is not the fashion in
France. Here, nobles may throw open their houses to all gentlemen
by birth who happen to be presented to them, but at home they are
rigidly exclusive; and, moreover, I am inclined to think they
regard us Irishmen as detrimental and dangerous. Many Irishmen
make exceedingly good matches, and we are regarded as having a way
with us, with the girls, that is likely to interfere with the
arrangements their parents have made for their marriages. Now, it
seems to me that your baron must be a very confiding old
gentleman, or he would never take you to stay in the society of
the young lady who owes so much to you. Faith, it seems to me that
you have the ball at your feet, and that you have only to go in
and win. From what I hear, Mademoiselle Pointdexter is no older
than you are yourself, and it is a glorious chance for you."
Desmond broke into a laugh.
"My dear O'Sullivan," he said, "it seems to me that it is the
favourite dream of Irish soldiers of fortune, that they may
improve their circumstances by marriage."
"Well, there is no easier or more pleasant way," his friend said,
stoutly.
"Possibly I may come to think so, in another ten years," Desmond
went on, "but, at present, I have no more thought of marrying than
I have of becoming king of France. The idea is altogether absurd,
and it happens to be particularly so, in the present case, since
one of the objects of my going down to Pointdexter is that I may
be present at the formal betrothal of this young lady, to Monsieur
de la Vallee, a neighbour of theirs, whom I had the pleasure of
meeting this afternoon, and to whom she is tenderly attached."
"By the powers, but that is unlucky, Kennedy!" O'Neil said; "and I
have been thinking that your fortune was made, and that the
regiment would soon lose you, as you would, of course, settle down
as a magnate in Languedoc; and now, it seems that what we thought
the proper sequence of your adventure, is not to come off, after
all. Well, lad, I congratulate you on putting a good face on it,
and hiding your disappointment."
"What nonsense you talk!" Desmond said, laughing. "It is you who
have been building castles, not I, and it is your disappointment
that they have fallen to pieces."