Chapter 2: An Important Decision.

One day in June, 1567, Gaspard Vaillant and his wife went up to

Fletcher's farm.

"I have come up to have a serious talk with you, John, about

Philip. You see, in a few months he will be sixteen. He is already

taller than I am. Rene and Gustave both tell me that they have

taught him all they know with sword and dagger; and both have been

stout men-at-arms in their time, and assure me that the lad could

hold his own against any young French noble of his own age, and

against not a few men. It is time that we came to some conclusion

about his future."

[Illustration: Gaspard Vaillant makes a proposal.]

"I have thought of it much, Gaspard. Lying here so helpless, my

thoughts do naturally turn to him. The boy has grown almost beyond

my power of understanding. Sometimes, when I hear him laughing and

jesting with the men, or with some of his school friends whom he

brings up here, it seems to me that I see myself again in him; and

that he is a merry young fellow, full of life and fun, and able to

hold his own at singlestick, or to foot it round the maypole with

any lad in Kent of his age. Then again, when he is talking with his

mother, or giving directions in her name to the French labourers, I

see a different lad, altogether: grave and quiet, with a gentle,

courteous way, fit for a young noble ten years his senior. I don't

know but that between us, Gaspard, we have made a mess of it; and

that it might have been better for him to have grown up altogether

as I was, with no thought or care save the management of his farm,

with a liking for sport and fun, when such came in his way."

"Not at all, not at all," Gaspard Vaillant broke in hastily, "we

have made a fine man of him, John; and it seems to me that he

possesses the best qualities of both our races. He is frank and

hearty, full of life and spirits when, as you say, occasion offers;

giving his whole heart either to work or play, with plenty of

determination, and what you English call backbone. There is, in

fact, a solid English foundation to his character. Then from our

side he has gained the gravity of demeanour that belongs to us

Huguenots; with the courtesy of manner, the carriage and bearing of

a young Frenchman of good blood. Above all, John, he is a sober

Christian, strong in the reformed faith, and with a burning hatred

against its persecutors, be they French or Spanish.

"Well then, being what he is, what is to be done with him? In the

first place, are you bent upon his remaining here? I think that,

with his qualities and disposition, it would be well that for a

while he had a wider scope. Lucie has managed the farm for the last

fifteen years, and can well continue to do so for another ten, if

God should spare her; and my own opinion is that, for that time, he

might be left to try his strength, and to devote to the good cause

the talents God has given him, and the skill and training that he

has acquired through us; and that it would be for his good to make

the acquaintance of his French kinsfolk, and to see something of

the world."

"I know that is Lucie's wish, also, Gaspard; and I have frequently

turned the matter over in my mind, and have concluded that, should

it be your wish also, it would be well for me to throw no

objections in the way. I shall miss the boy sorely; but young birds

cannot be kept always in the nest, and I think that the lad has

such good stuff in him that it were a pity to keep him shut up

here."

"Now, John," his brother-in-law went on, "although I may never have

said quite as much before, I have said enough for you to know what

my intentions are. God has not been pleased to bestow children upon

us; and Philip is our nearest relation, and stands to us almost in

the light of a son. God has blest my work for the last twenty

years, and though I have done, I hope, fully my share towards

assisting my countrymen in distress, putting by always one-third of

my income for that purpose, I am a rich man. The factory has grown

larger and larger; not because we desired greater gains, but that I

might give employment to more and more of my countrymen. Since the

death of Lequoc, twelve years ago, it has been entirely in my hands

and, living quietly as we have done, a greater portion of the

profits have been laid by every year; therefore, putting out of

account the money that my good sister has laid by, Philip will

start in life not ill equipped.

"I know that the lad has said nothing of any wishes he may

entertain--at his age it would not be becoming for him to do so,

until his elders speak--but of late, when we have read to him

letters from our friends in France, or when he has listened to the

tales of those freshly arrived from their ruined homes, I have

noted that his colour rose; that his fingers tightened, as if on a

sword; and could see how passionately he was longing to join those

who were struggling against their cruel oppressors. Not less

interested has he been in the noble struggle that the Dutch are

making against the Spaniards; a struggle in which many of our

exiled countrymen are sharing.

"One of his mother's cousins, the Count de La Noue, is, as you

know, prominent among the Huguenot leaders; and others of our

relatives are ranged on the same side. At present there is a truce,

but both parties feel that it is a hollow one; nevertheless it

offers a good opportunity for him to visit his mother's family.

Whether there is any prospect of our ever recovering the lands

which were confiscated on our flight is uncertain. Should the

Huguenots ever maintain their ground, and win freedom of worship in

France, it may be that the confiscated estates will in many cases

be restored; as to that, however, I am perfectly indifferent. Were

I a younger man, I should close my factory, return to France, and

bear my share in the defence of the faith. As it is, I should like

to send Philip over as my substitute.

"It would, at any rate, be well that he should make the

acquaintance of his kinsfolk in France; although even I should not

wish that he should cease to regard England as his native country

and home. Hundreds of young men, many no older than himself, are in

Holland fighting against the persecutors; and risking their lives,

though having no kinship with the Dutch, impelled simply by their

love of the faith and their hatred of persecution.

"I have lately, John, though the matter has been kept quiet,

purchased the farms of Blunt and Mardyke, your neighbours on either

hand. Both are nearly twice the size of your own. I have arranged

with the men that, for the present, they shall continue to work

them as my tenants, as they were before the tenants of Sir James

Holford; who, having wasted his money at court, has been forced to

sell a portion of his estates. Thus, some day Phil will come into

possession of land which will place him in a good position, and I

am prepared to add to it considerably. Sir James Holford still

gambles away his possessions; and I have explained, to his notary,

my willingness to extend my purchases at any time, should he desire

to sell. I should at once commence the building of a comfortable

mansion, but it is scarce worth while to do so; for it is probable

that, before many years, Sir James may be driven to part with his

Hall, as well as his land. In the meantime I am ready to provide

Philip with an income which will enable him to take his place with

credit among our kinsfolk, and to raise a company of some fifty men

to follow him in the field, should Conde and the Huguenots again be

driven to struggle against the Guises.

"What do you think?"

"I think, in the first place, that Lucie and I should be indeed

grateful to you, Gaspard, for your generous offer. As to his going

to France, that I must talk over with his mother; whose wishes in

this, as in all respects, are paramount with me. But I may say at

once that, lying here as I do, thinking of the horrible cruelties

and oppressions to which men and women are subjected for the

faith's sake in France and Holland, I feel that we, who are happily

able to worship in peace and quiet, ought to hesitate at no

sacrifice on their behalf; and moreover, seeing that, owing to my

affliction, he owes what he is rather to his mother and you than to

me, I think your wish that he should make the acquaintance of his

kinsfolk in France is a natural one. I have no wish for the lad to

become a courtier, English or French; nor that he should, as

Englishmen have done before now in foreign armies, gain great

honour and reputation; but if it is his wish to fight on behalf of

the persecuted people of God, whether in France or in Holland, he

will do so with my heartiest goodwill; and if he die, he could not

die in a more glorious cause.

"Let us talk of other matters now, Gaspard. This is one that needs

thought before more words are spoken."

Two days later, John Fletcher had a long talk with Phil. The latter

was delighted when he heard the project, which was greatly in

accord with both sides of his character. As an English lad, he

looked forward eagerly to adventure and peril; as French and of the

reformed religion, he was rejoiced at the thought of fighting with

the Huguenots against their persecutors, and of serving under the

men with whose names and reputations he was so familiar.

"I do not know your uncle's plans for you, as yet, Phil," his

father said. "He went not into such matters, leaving these to be

talked over after it had been settled whether his offer should be

accepted or not. He purposes well by you, and regards you as his

heir. He has already bought Blunt and Mardyke's farms, and purposes

to buy other parts of the estates of Sir James Holford, as they may

slip through the knight's fingers at the gambling table. Therefore,

in time, you will become a person of standing in the county; and

although I care little for these things now, Phil, yet I should

like you to be somewhat more than a mere squire; and if you serve

for a while under such great captains as Coligny and Conde, it will

give you reputation and weight.

"Your good uncle and his friends think little of such matters, but

I own that I am not uninfluenced by them. Coligny, for example, is

a man whom all honour; and that honour is not altogether because he

is leader of the reformed faith, but because he is a great soldier.

I do not think that honour and reputation are to be despised.

Doubtless the first thing of all is that a man should be a good

Christian. But that will in no way prevent him from being a great

man; nay, it will add to his greatness.

"You have noble kinsfolk in France, to some of whom your uncle will

doubtless commit you; and it may be that you will have opportunities

of distinguishing yourself. Should such occur, I am sure you will

avail yourself of them, as one should do who comes of good stock on

both sides; for although we Fletchers have been but yeomen, from

generation to generation, we have been ever ready to take and give

our share of hard blows when they were going; and there have been

few battles fought, since William the Norman came over, that a

Fletcher has not fought in the English ranks; whether in France, in

Scotland, or in our own troubles.

"Therefore it seems to me but natural that, for many reasons, you

should desire at your age to take part in the fighting; as an

Englishman, because Englishmen fought six years ago under the

banner of Conde; as a Protestant, on behalf of our persecuted

brethren; as a Frenchman by your mother's side, because you have

kinsfolk engaged, and because it is the Pope and Philip of Spain,

as well as the Guises, who are, in fact, battling to stamp out

French liberty.

"Of one thing I am sure, my boy--you will disgrace neither an

honest English name, nor the French blood in your veins, nor your

profession as a Christian and a Protestant. There are Englishmen

gaining credit on the Spanish Main, under Drake and Hawkins; there

are Englishmen fighting manfully by the side of the Dutch; there

are others in the armies of the Protestant princes of Germany; and

in none of these matters are they so deeply concerned as you are in

the affairs of France and religion.

"I shall miss you, of course, Philip, and that sorely; but I have

long seen that this would probably be the upshot of your training

and, since I can myself take no share in adventure, beyond the

walls of this house, I shall feel that I am living again in you.

But, lad, never forget that you are English. You are Philip

Fletcher, come of an old Kentish stock; and though you may be

living with French kinsfolk and friends, always keep uppermost the

fact that you are an Englishman who sympathizes with France, and

not a Frenchman with some English blood in your veins. I have given

you up greatly to your French relations here; but if you win credit

and honour, I would have it won by my son, Philip Fletcher, born in

England of an English father, and who will one day be a gentleman

and landowner in the county of Kent."

"I sha'n't forget that, father," Philip said earnestly. "I have

never regarded myself as in any way French; although speaking the

tongue as well as English, and being so much among my mother's

friends. But living here with you, where our people have lived so

many years; hearing from you the tales from our history; seeing

these English fields around me; and being at an English school,

among English boys, I have ever felt that I am English, though in

no way regretting the Huguenot blood that I inherit from my mother.

Believe me, that if I fight in France it will be as an Englishman

who has drawn his sword in the quarrel, and rather as one who hates

oppression and cruelty than because I have French kinsmen engaged

in it."

"That is well, Philip. You may be away for some years, but I trust

that, on your return, you will find me sitting here to welcome you

back. A creaking wheel lasts long. I have everything to make my

life happy and peaceful--the best of wives, a well-ordered farm,

and no thought or care as to my worldly affairs--and since it has

been God's will that such should be my life, my interest will be

wholly centred in you; and I hope to see your children playing

round me or, for ought I know, your grandchildren, for we are a

long-lived race.

"And now, Philip, you had best go down and see your uncle, and

thank him for his good intentions towards you. Tell him that I

wholly agree with his plans, and that if he and your aunt will come

up this evening, we will enter farther into them."

That evening John Fletcher learned that it was the intention of

Gaspard that his wife should accompany Philip.

"Marie yearns to see her people again," he said, "and the present

is a good time for her to do so; for when the war once breaks out

again, none can say how long it will last or how it will terminate.

Her sister and Lucie's, the Countess de Laville, has, as you know,

frequently written urgently for Marie to go over and pay her a

visit. Hitherto I have never been able to bring myself to spare

her, but I feel that this is so good an opportunity that I must let

her go for a few weeks.

"Philip could not be introduced under better auspices. He will

escort Marie to his aunt's, remain there with her, and then see her

on board ship again at La Rochelle; after which, doubtless, he will

remain at his aunt's, and when the struggle begins will ride with

his cousin Francois. I have hesitated whether I should go, also.

But in the first place, my business would get on but badly without

me; in the second, although Marie might travel safely enough, I

might be arrested were I recognized as one who had left the kingdom

contrary to the edicts; and lastly, I never was on very good terms

with her family.

"Emilie, in marrying the Count de Laville, made a match somewhat

above her own rank; for the Lavilles were a wealthier and more

powerful family than that of Charles de Moulins, her father. On the

other hand, I was, although of good birth, yet inferior in

consideration to De Moulins, although my lands were broader than

his. Consequently we saw little of Emilie, after our marriage.

Therefore my being with Marie would, in no way, increase the warmth

of the welcome that she and Philip will receive. I may say that the

estrangement was, perhaps, more my fault than that of the Lavilles.

I chose to fancy there was a coolness on their part, which probably

existed only in my imagination. Moreover, shortly after my marriage

the religious troubles grew serious; and we were all too much

absorbed in our own perils, and those of our poorer neighbours, to

think of travelling about, or of having family gatherings.

"At any rate, I feel that Philip could not enter into life more

favourably than as cousin of Francois de Laville; who is but two

years or so his senior, and who will, his mother wrote to Marie,

ride behind that gallant gentleman, Francois de la Noue, if the war

breaks out again. I am glad to feel confident that Philip will in

no way bring discredit upon his relations.

"I shall at once order clothes for him, suitable for the occasion. They

will be such as will befit an English gentleman; good in material but

sober in colour, for the Huguenots eschew bright hues. I will take

his measure, and send up to a friend in London for a helmet, breast,

and back pieces, together with offensive arms, sword, dagger, and

pistols. I have already written to correspondents, at Southampton

and Plymouth, for news as to the sailing of a ship bound for La Rochelle.

There he had better take four men into his service, for in these days it

is by no means safe to ride through France unattended; especially when

one is of the reformed religion. The roads abound with disbanded

soldiers and robbers, while in the villages a fanatic might, at any time,

bring on a religious tumult. I have many correspondents at La Rochelle,

and will write to one asking him to select four stout fellows, who showed

their courage in the last war, and can be relied on for good and faithful

service. I will also get him to buy horses, and make all arrangements

for the journey.

"Marie will write to her sister. Lucie, perhaps, had better write

under the same cover; for although she can remember but little of

Emilie, seeing that she was fully six years her junior, it would be

natural that she should take the opportunity to correspond with

her.

"In one respect, Phil," he went on, turning to his nephew, "you

will find yourself at some disadvantage, perhaps, among young

Frenchmen. You can ride well, and I think can sit a horse with any

of them; but of the menage, that is to say, the purely ornamental

management of a horse, in which they are most carefully instructed,

you know nothing. It is one of the tricks of fashion, of which

plain men like myself know but little; and though I have often made

inquiries, I have found no one who could instruct you. However,

these delicacies are rather for courtly displays than for the rough

work of war; though it must be owned that, in single combat between

two swordsmen, he who has the most perfect control over his horse,

and can make the animal wheel or turn, press upon his opponent, or

give way by a mere touch of his leg or hand, possesses a

considerable advantage over the man who is unversed in such

matters. I hope you will not feel the want of it, and at any rate,

it has not been my fault that you have had no opportunity of

acquiring the art.

"The tendency is more and more to fight on foot. The duel has taken

the place of the combat in the lists, and the pikeman counts for as

much in the winning of a battle as the mounted man. You taught us

that at Cressy and Agincourt; but we have been slow to learn the

lesson, which was brought home to you in your battles with the

Scots, and in your own civil struggles. It is the bow and the pike

that have made the English soldier famous; while in France, where

the feudal system still prevails, horsemen still form a large

proportion of our armies; and the jousting lists, and the exercise

of the menage, still occupy a large share in the training and

amusements of the young men of noble families."

Six weeks later, Philip Fletcher landed at La Rochelle, with his

aunt and her French serving maid. When the ship came into port, the

clerk of a trader there came on board at once and, on the part of

his employer, begged Madame Vaillant and her son to take up their

abode at his house; he having been warned of their coming by his

valued correspondent, Monsieur Vaillant. A porter was engaged to

carry up their luggage to the house, whither the clerk at once

conducted them.

From his having lived so long among the Huguenot colony, the scene

was less strange to Philip than it would have been to most English

lads. La Rochelle was a strongly Protestant city, and the

sober-coloured costumes of the people differed but little from

those to which he was accustomed in the streets of Canterbury. He

himself and his aunt attracted no attention, whatever, from

passersby; her costume being exactly similar to those worn by the

wives of merchants, while Philip would have passed anywhere as a

young Huguenot gentleman, in his doublet of dark puce cloth,

slashed with gray, his trunks of the same colour, and long gray

hose.

"A proper-looking young gentleman," a market woman said to her

daughter, as he passed. "Another two or three years, and he will

make a rare defender of the faith. He must be from Normandy, with

his fair complexion and light eyes. There are not many of the true

faith in the north."

They were met by the merchant at the door of his house.

"I am glad indeed to see you again, Madame Vaillant," he said. "It is

some twenty years, now, since you and your good husband and your sister

hid here, for three days, before we could smuggle you on board a ship.

Ah! Those were bad times; though there have been worse since. But since

our people showed that they did not intend, any longer, to be slaughtered

unresistingly, things have gone better here, at least; and for the last

four years the slaughterings and murders have ceased.

"You are but little changed, madame, since I saw you last."

"I have lived a quiet and happy life, my good Monsieur Bertram;

free from all strife and care, save for anxiety about our people

here. Why cannot Catholics and Protestants live quietly side by

side here, as they do in England?"

"We should ask nothing better, madame."

At this moment, a girl came hurrying down the stairs.

"This is my daughter Jean, madame.

"Why were you not down before, Jean?" he asked sharply. "I told you

to place Suzette at the casement, to warn you when our visitors

were in sight, so that you should, as was proper, be at the door to

meet them. I suppose, instead of that, you had the maid arranging

your headgear, or some such worldly folly."

The girl coloured hotly, for her father had hit upon the truth.

"Young people will be young people, Monsieur Bertram," Madame

Vaillant said, smiling, "and my husband and I are not of those who

think that it is necessary to carry a prim face, and to attire

one's self in ugly garments, as a proof of religion. Youth is the

time for mirth and happiness, and nature teaches a maiden what is

becoming to her; why then should we blame her for setting off the

charms God has given her to their best advantage?"

By this time they had reached the upper storey, and the merchant's

daughter hastened to relieve Madame Vaillant of her wraps.

"This is my nephew, of whom my husband wrote to you," the latter

said to the merchant, when Philip entered the room--he having

lingered at the door to pay the porters, and to see that the

luggage, which had come up close behind them, was stored.

"He looks active and strong, madame. He has the figure of a fine

swordsman."

"He has been well taught, and will do no discredit to our race,

Monsieur Bertram. His father is a strong and powerful man, even for

an Englishman; and though Philip does not follow his figure, he has

something of his strength."

"They are wondrous strong, these Englishmen," the trader said. "I

have seen, among their sailors, men who are taller by a head than

most of us here, and who look strong enough to take a bull by the

horns and hold him. But had it not been for your nephew's fair hair

and gray eyes, his complexion, and the smile on his lips--we have

almost forgotten how to smile, in France--I should hardly have

taken him for an Englishman."

"There is nothing extraordinary in that, Monsieur Bertram, when his

mother is French, and he has lived greatly in the society of my

husband and myself, and among the Huguenot colony at Canterbury."

"Have you succeeded in getting the horses and the four men for us,

Monsieur Bertram?" Philip asked.

"Yes, everything is in readiness for your departure tomorrow.

Madame will, I suppose, ride behind you upon a pillion; and her

maid behind one of the troopers.

"I have, in accordance with Monsieur Vaillant's instructions,

bought a horse, which I think you will be pleased with; for Guise

himself might ride upon it, without feeling that he was ill

mounted. I was fortunate in lighting on such an animal. It was the

property of a young noble, who rode hither from Navarre and was

sailing for England. I imagine he bore despatches from the queen to

her majesty of England. He had been set upon by robbers on the way.

They took everything he possessed, and held him prisoner, doubtless

meaning to get a ransom for him; but he managed to slip off while

they slept, and to mount his horse, with which he easily left the

varlets behind, although they chased him for some distance. So when

he came here, he offered to sell his horse to obtain an outfit and

money for his voyage; and the landlord of the inn, who is a friend

of mine, knowing that I had been inquiring for a good animal,

brought him to me, and we soon struck a bargain."

"It was hard on him to lose his horse in that fashion," Philip

said; "and I am sorry for it, though I may be the gainer thereby."

"He did not seem to mind much," the merchant said. "Horses are good

and abundant in Navarre, and when I said I did not like to take

advantage of his strait, he only laughed and said he had three or

four others as good at home. He did say, though, that he would like

to know if it was to be in good hands. I assured him that on that

ground he need not fear; for that I had bought it for a young

gentleman, nearly related to the Countess de Laville. He said that

was well, and seemed glad, indeed, that it was not to be ridden by

one of the brigands into whose hands he fell."

"And the men. Are they trustworthy fellows?"

"They are stout men-at-arms. They are Gascons all, and rode behind

Coligny in the war, and according to their own account performed

wonders; but as Gascons are given to boasting, I paid not much heed

to that. However, they were recommended to me by a friend, a large

wine grower, for whom they have been working for the last two

years. He says they are honest and industrious, and they are

leaving him only because they are anxious for a change and, deeming

that troubles were again approaching, wanted to enter the service

of some Huguenot lord who would be likely to take the field. He was

lamenting the fact to me, when I said that it seemed to me they

were just the men I was in search of; and I accordingly saw them,

and engaged them on the understanding that, at the end of a month,

you should be free to discharge them if you were not satisfied with

them; and that equally they could leave your service, if they did

not find it suit.

"They have arms, of course, and such armour as they need; and I

have bought four serviceable horses for their use, together with a

horse to carry your baggage, but which will serve for your body

servant.

"I have not found a man for that office. I knew of no one who

would, as I thought, suit you; and in such a business it seemed to

me better that you should wait, and choose for yourself, for in the

matter of servants everyone has his fancies. Some like a silent

knave, while others prefer a merry one. Some like a tall proper

fellow, who can fight if needs be; others a staid man, who will do

his duty and hold his tongue, who can cook a good dinner and groom

a horse well. It is certain you will never find all virtues

combined. One man may be all that you wish, but he is a liar;

another helps himself; a third is too fond of the bottle. In this

matter, then, I did not care to take the responsibility, but have

left it for you to choose for yourself."

"I shall be more likely to make a mistake than you will, Monsieur

Bertram," Philip said with a laugh.

"Perhaps so, but then it will be your own mistake; and a man chafes

less, at the shortcomings of one whom he has chosen himself, than

at those of one who has, as it were, been forced upon him."

"Well, there will be no hurry in that matter," Philip said. "I can

get on well enough without a servant, for a time. Up to the

present, I have certainly never given a thought as to what kind of

man I should want as a servant; and I should like time to think

over a matter which is, from what you say, so important."

"Assuredly it is important, young sir. If you should take the

field, you will find that your comfort greatly depends upon it. A

sharp, active knave, who will ferret out good quarters for you,

turn you out a good meal from anything he can get hold of, bring

your horse up well groomed in the morning, and your armour brightly

polished; who will not lie to you overmuch, or rob you overmuch,

and who will only get drunk at times when you can spare his

services. Ah! He would be a treasure to you. But assuredly such a

man is not to be found every day."

"And of course," Marie put in, "in addition to what you have said,

Monsieur Bertram, it would be necessary that he should be one of

our religion, and fervent and strong in the faith."

"My dear lady, I was mentioning possibilities," the trader said.

"It is of course advisable that he should be a Huguenot, it is

certainly essential that he should not be a Papist; but beyond this

we need not inquire too closely. You cannot expect the virtues of

an archbishop, and the capacity of a horse boy. If he can find a

man embracing the qualities of both, by all means let your son

engage him; but as he will require him to be a good cook, and a

good groom, and he will not require religious instruction from him,

the former points are those on which I should advise him to lay

most stress.

"And now, Madame Vaillant, will you let me lead you into the next

room where, as my daughter has for some time been trying to make me

understand, a meal is ready? And I doubt not that you are also

ready; for truly those who travel by sea are seldom able to enjoy

food, save when they are much accustomed to voyaging. Though they

tell me that, after a time, even those with the most delicate

stomachs recover their appetites, and are able to enjoy the rough

fare they get on board a ship."

After the meal was over, the merchant took Philip to the stables,

where the new purchases had been put up. The men were not there,

but the ostler brought out Philip's horse, with which he was

delighted.

"He will not tire under his double load," the merchant said; "and

with only your weight upon him, a foeman would be well mounted,

indeed, to overtake you."

"I would rather that you put it, Monsieur Bertram, that a foeman

needs be well mounted to escape me."

"Well, I hope it will be that way," his host replied, smiling. "But

in fighting such as we have here, there are constant changes. The

party that is pursued one day is the pursuer a week later; and of

the two, you know, speed is of much more importance in flight than

in pursuit. If you cannot overtake a foe, well, he gets away, and

you may have better fortune next time; but if you can't get away

from a foe, the chances are you may never have another opportunity

of doing so."

"Perhaps you are right. In fact, now I think of it, I am sure you

are; though I hope it will not often happen that we shall have to

depend for safety on the speed of our horses. At any rate, I am

delighted with him, Monsieur Bertram; and I thank you greatly for

procuring so fine an animal for me. If the four men turn out to be

as good, of their kind, as the horse, I shall be well set up,

indeed."

Early the next morning the four men came round to the merchant's,

and Philip went down with him into the entry hall where they were.

He was well satisfied with their appearance. They were stout

fellows, from twenty-six to thirty years old. All were soberly

dressed, and wore steel caps and breast pieces, and carried long

swords by their sides. In spite of the serious expression of their

faces, Philip saw that all were in high, if restrained, spirits at

again taking service.

"This is your employer, the Sieur Philip Fletcher. I have warranted

that he shall find you good and true men, and I hope you will do

justice to my recommendation."

"We will do our best," Roger, the eldest of the party, said. "We

are all right glad to be moving again. It is not as if we had been

bred on the soil here, and a man never takes to a strange place as

to one he was born in."

"You are Gascons, Maitre Bertram tells me," Philip said.

"Yes, sir. We were driven out from there ten years ago, when the

troubles were at their worst. Our fathers were both killed, and we

travelled with our mothers and sisters by night, through the

country, till we got to La Rochelle."

"You say both your fathers. How are you related to each other?"

"Jacques and I are brothers," Roger said, touching the youngest of

the party on his shoulder. "Eustace and Henri are brothers, and are

our cousins. Their father and ours were brothers. When the troubles

broke out, we four took service with the Count de Luc, and followed

him throughout the war. When it was over we came back here. Our

mothers had married again. Some of our sisters had taken husbands,

too. Others were in service. Therefore we remained here rather than

return to Gascony, where our friends and relations had all been

either killed or dispersed.

"We were lucky in getting employment together, but were right glad

when we heard that there was an opening again for service. For the

last two years we have been looking forward to it; for as everyone

sees, it cannot be long before the matter must be fought out again.

And in truth, we have been wearying for the time to come; for after

having had a year of fighting, one does not settle down readily to

tilling the soil.

"You will find that you can rely on us, sir, for faithful service.

We all bore a good reputation as stout fighters and, during the

time we were in harness before, we none of us got into trouble for

being overfond of the wine pots."

"I think you will suit me very well," Philip said, "and I hope that

my service will suit you. Although an Englishman by birth and name,

my family have suffered persecution here as yours have done, and I

am as warmly affected to the Huguenot cause as yourselves. If there

is danger you will not find me lacking in leading you, and so far

as I can I shall try to make my service a comfortable one, and to

look after your welfare.

"We shall be ready to start in half an hour, therefore have the

horses round at the door in that time. One of the pillions is to be

placed on my own horse. You had better put the other for the maid

behind your saddle, Roger; you being, I take it, the oldest of your

party, had better take charge of her."

The men saluted and went out.

"I like their looks much," Philip said to the merchant. "Stout

fellows and cheerful, I should say. Like my aunt, I don't see why

we should carry long faces, Monsieur Bertram, because we have

reformed our religion; and I believe that a light heart and good

spirits will stand wear and tear better than a sad visage."

The four men were no less pleased with their new employer.

"That is a lad after my own heart," Roger said, as they went out.

"Quick and alert, pleasant of face; and yet, I will be bound, not

easily turned from what he has set his mind to. He bears himself

well, and I doubt not can use his weapons. I don't know what stock

he comes from, on this side, but I warrant it is a good one.

"He will make a good master, lads. I think that, as he says, he

will be thoughtful as to our comforts, and be pleasant and cheerful

with us; but mind you, he will expect the work to be done, and you

will find that there is no trifling with him."

Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars · 第 2 / 22 章