‘No, Sire, but my best must be done. I pray you counsel me.’
Henry laughed at the simple confidence of the request, but replied, ‘The readiest way to obtain a priest will be to ride with a flag of truce to the enemy’s camp—they are at St. Esme—and say that M. de Nid de Merle is a prisoner and dying, and that I offer safe-conduct to any priest that will come to him—though whether a red-hot Calvinist will respect my safe-conduct or your escort is another matter.’
‘At least, Sire, you sanction my making this request?’
‘Have you men enough to take with you to guard you from marauders?’
‘I have but two servants, Sire, and I have left them with the wounded man.’
‘Then I will send with you half a dozen Gascons, who have been long enough at Paris with me to have no scruples.’
By the time Berenger had explained matters to his wife and brother, and snatched a hasty meal, a party of gay, soldierly-looking fellows were in the saddle, commanded by a bronzed sergeant who was perfectly at home in conducting messages between contending parties. After a dark ride of about five miles, the camp at the village of St. Esme was reached, and this person recommended that he himself should go forward with a trumpet, since M. de Ribaumont was liable to be claimed as an escaped prisoner. There was then a tedious delay, but at length the soldier returned, and another horseman with him. A priest who had come to the camp in search of M. de Nid de Merle was willing to trust himself to the King of Navarre’s safe-conduct.
‘Thanks, sir,’ cried Berenger; ‘this is a work of true charity.’
‘I think I know that voice,’ said the priest.
‘The priest of Nissard!’