‘Sir,’ said Berenger, advancing into the hall, ‘I know not the meaning of this. I am peacefully traveling with a passport from the King, when I am set upon, no warrant shown me, my faithful servant slain, myself and my brother, an English subject, shamefully handled.
‘The violence shall be visited on whatever rascal durst insult a gentleman and my nephew,’ said the Chevalier. ‘For release, it shall be looked to; but unfortunately it is too true that there are orders from the Queen in Council for your apprehension, and it was only on my special entreaty for the honour of the family, and the affection I bear you, that I was allowed to receive you here instead of your being sent to an ordinary prison.
‘On what pretext?’ demanded Berenger.
‘It is known that you have letters in your possession from escaped traitors now in England, to La Noue, Duplessis Mornay, and other heretics.
‘That is easily explained,’ said Berenger. ‘You know well, sir, that they were to facilitate my search at La Sablerie. You shall see them yourself, sir.
‘That I must assuredly do,’ replied the Chevalier, ‘for it is the order of her Majesty, I regret to say, that your person and baggage be searched;’ then, as indignant colour rushed into Berenger’s face, and an angry exclamation was beginning, he added, ‘Nay, I understand, my dear cousin, it is very painful, but we would spare you as much as possible. It will be quite enough if the search is made by myself in the presence of this gentleman, who will only stand by for form’s sake. I have no doubt it will enable us quickly to clear up matters, and set you free again. Do me the honour to follow me to the chamber destined for you.
‘Let me see the order for my arrest,’ said Berenger, holding his head high.
‘The English scruple must be gratified,’ said the Chevalier. And accordingly the gendarme captain unfolded before him a paper, which was evidently a distinct order to arrest and examine the person of Henri Beranger Eustache, Baron de Ribaumont and Sieur de Leurre, suspected of treasonable practices—and it bore the signature of Catherine.
‘There is nothing here said of my step-father’s son, Philip Thistlewood, nor of my servant, Humfrey Holt,’ said Berenger, gathering the sense with his dizzy eyes as best he could. ‘They cannot be detained, being born subjects of the Queen of England.
‘They intercepted the justice of the King,’ said the captain, laying his hand on Philip’s shoulder. ‘I shall have them off with me to the garrison of Lugon, and deal with them there.