Feeling convinced that no orders had been given for the assembly of any body of troops, he sat down for a time at a small table in front of one of the principal wine shops, and called for a bottle of the best wine; thinking that the fact that he was alone would be less noticeable, so, than if he continued to walk the streets. Presently a party of four or five gentlemen sat down at a table a short distance off. He did not particularly notice them at first; but presently, glancing that way, saw one of them looking hard at him, and a thrill of dismay ran through him, as he recognized the gentleman addressed as Raoul, the leader of the party that had stopped him near Bazas. He had, however, presence of mind enough to look indifferently at him, and then to continue sipping his wine.
The possibility that this gentleman, with his troop, should have come to Agen had never entered his mind; and though the encounter was a most unfortunate one, he trusted that the complete change in his appearance would be sufficient to prevent recognition; although it was evident, by the gaze fixed on him, that the gentleman had an idea that his face was familiar. To move now would heighten suspicion, if any existed; and he therefore sat quiet, watching the people who passed in front of him, and revolving in his mind the best course to be taken, should Raoul address him. The latter had just spoken to his cousin, who was sitting next to him.
"Do you know that young gentleman, Louis?" he asked. "I seem to know his face well; and yet he does not know me, for he just now glanced at me, without recognizing me. You know most of the gentry in this neighbourhood. Do you know him?"
"No, I cannot say that I do, Raoul; though I, too, seem to have a recollection of his face. It is a sort of face one remembers, too. I should think his family must belong to the north, for you do not often see men of that complexion about here. He looks very young, not above nineteen or twenty; but there is a look of earnestness and resolution, about his face, that would point to his being some years older."
Dismissing the matter from his mind, Raoul joined in the conversation round him. Presently he grasped his cousin's arm.
"I know where we saw the face now, Louis. He was one of the four fellows we stopped, two days since, near Bazas."
"Impossible, Raoul! Those men were peasants, though two of them had served for a time in the army; the others--" and he stopped.
"You see it yourself, Louis. One of the others was a dark, active man. The other was but a lad--a tall, well-built young fellow, with fair complexion and gray eyes. I thought of it afterwards, and wondered where he got that skin and hair from. I put it down that it was a trace of English blood, of which there is a good deal still left in Guyenne, and some of the other provinces they held, long ago."
"I certainly see the likeness, now you mention it, Raoul; but it can hardly be the same. This is a gentleman. He is certainly that, whoever he may be. How could a gentleman be masquerading about as a peasant?"
"That is what I am going to find out, Louis. He may have been a Huguenot, making his way down to join the Queen of Navarre at Nerac He may be one of her train there, who had gone out, in disguise, to reconnoitre the country and see what forces of ours were in the neighbourhood, and where posted. That may be his mission, here; but this time he has chosen to come in his proper attire."