Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War

by G. A. Henty

He went with the ladies to a private room he had secured.

“I must leave you for a few minutes,” he said, “while I have a talk with MacIntosh and the others.”

“Well, old friend,” he said as he went out to where the little party of Scotchmen were standing in a group, “what are your plans and wishes? 'Tis a pity now that I persuaded you to leave Paris and go down to la Villar, but I did it for the best. I thought of you much as I rode hither.”

“Do not trouble about me, colonel, I am by no means sorry at the change. I was getting tired of the cabaret, and should soon have given it up even had you not come to offer me the wardenship of your chateau. I have chatted matters over with my two friends, and we have not yet agreed whether to return to Scotland or to remain in France. At any rate we shall go to Paris first; my money is there all in good keeping, together with the two years' payment for the cabaret. Are you thinking of going to Scotland yourself, colonel?”

“Certainly not to Scotland, I have no friends there, and from all that I have heard the people are so hard and bigoted, so full of their religious differences, that I should feel sorely out of place with them.

“Well, MacIntosh, as soon as I am settled in England I will have a letter conveyed to you in some way at the address of The Scottish Soldier. Wherever I am, there will be a home always open to you, and glad indeed I shall be to have you near me. My four troopers are going to accompany me. I have talked the matter over with them, and have promised that I will find a house with a small farm for them on any estate I may purchase, where they can do such an amount of work as pleases them, or that they can remain in my service on the present conditions. You can make the same offer in my name to your two comrades. After all, things are not so settled across the water that I can dispense with old friends on whom I can rely. Paolo, of course, goes with me, and will be my right hand.”

“I will think it all over, Hector, and maybe one of these days I and the other two may knock at your door. It is hard if seven old fellow soldiers could not end their days happily and quietly together.”

As soon as the meal had been eaten Hector went to say goodbye to the governor, and heard how Vendome's men had been refused entrance. After thanking him for the courtesy that he had shown him, he returned to the inn. As the party would require horses on landing, and there was plenty of room on board the vessel that he had engaged, Hector shipped the three horses that Conde had given him, and four others for the use of his men, and after a hearty farewell to MacIntosh on his part and that of the ladies, they went on board, and a few minutes later the sails were set and the vessel started down the river. The wind was favourable, and they made a fast voyage down to the sea. Before they reached the mouth of the river, however, Hector had ascertained to his satisfaction that Norah O'More returned the feeling that he felt for her.

“I have loved you,” she said, “from the moment when you came to us as our saviour from death on the summit of the turret; and though as time went on I did not venture to think that you, who had so fair a future before you, would ever think of the girl who with her mother you had so nobly entertained and treated, I should never have loved any other man to the end of my life.”

The voyage was without incident, and five days after leaving Nantes they arrived at Plymouth. Here Hector hired a house, and when the ladies were comfortably settled he left them in charge of Paolo and two of the men, and rode to London accompanied by the others. Here he called upon the banker whose address Mazarin had given him, and on sending in his name was shown into the room in which private business was transacted.