"Your armour, sir!" said another.
"No, no, on foot! on foot!" cried Bernard de Rohan; "on foot as we are! Time is everything. Lead on, fellow! lead on! Send us out torches, mine host!"
The jovial priest had started up almost at the same time as his travelling companion. "By our Lady, I will go with you!" he cried, "to shrive the dying. It is a part of a priest's trade; though, I confess, if I were knight, and noble and gallant cavalier, I would stay where I am, like this brave count, and exercise my chivalry upon venison and tankards of wine."
While he was speaking, there drew out from some dark corner of the inn-kitchen—where he had remained unnoticed by any one—a tall, thin, gaunt man, with a straw hat on his head, and a large, coarse brown cloak enveloping almost the whole of his figure. He took three steps forward into the full light, and certainly there had seldom been seen a more striking, if not a more handsome countenance, or a more remarkable and even graceful bearing, than that which the stranger presented. He was a man apparently about five-and-thirty years of age, with aquiline features, large, black, flashing eyes, the bronze of sun, and wind, and storm upon his face, and five or six deep scars upon his cheek and brow. He was remarkably erect in person, and, though certainly meager, was broad-shouldered and muscular, or rather, perhaps, I may say, sinewy; for the hand that grasped his cloak, and the part of the arm and wrist seen above it, displayed the strong markings of the muscles like cords under the skin.
He came directly in the way of Bernard de Rohan as the young cavalier advanced towards the door; and it must be confessed that there was something strange and startling in the sudden apparition of the stranger, which made the other pause, and, with an involuntary motion, advance his right hand towards the hilt of his sword.
He drew it back again instantly, however, somewhat ashamed of the movement, while the new personage thus brought upon the stage said, in a deep but melodious voice, "I will go with you too, young gentleman, and may do you better service than our good friend the priest here."
"But, Master Leon," exclaimed the landlord of the inn, advancing towards him with an entreating look.
"Hush!" cried the stranger, holding up his hand; and, at the same moment, the jovial priest turned also upon the host, exclaiming, "Fry your eggs, fry your eggs, Gandelot, and leave other people to fry theirs. Don't be afraid! we'll not toss the omelet into the fire, nor spill the grease, nor set the chimney in a blaze. You know me and I know him; and, though he is the last man that should say I can't do good service when I like it, yet I will go with him without a quarrel!"
When every one is speaking at once, a conversation which would be otherwise long is very rapidly brought to a conclusion; and though, as we have seen, there were here two or three interlocutors, all that we have described scarcely interrupted Bernard de Rohan half a minute. "Lead on, lead on, then!" he exclaimed impatiently, addressing the servant who had made the appeal for assistance, and to whom the Count de Meyrand had been addressing a few words in a low tone. "Lead on, I say, quick!" and in another moment they were all beyond the door of the inn, and standing upon the mountain-side in the cold air of night.
The count remained at the table; and, shaping their conduct upon that of their lord, not one of his servants attempted to move. Meyrand, however, did not, upon the whole, seem particularly well satisfied with what had taken place. Perhaps he might not be quite contented with the inactive part he was playing; and it is certain he asked himself whether Bernard de Rohan could attribute his conduct to want of courage. He recollected, however, that they had mounted to the assault of many a well-defended breach together, and he felt sure that there could be no doubt of that kind on his companion's mind. He remained in thought, however, for a minute or two longer, forgetting even the supper that was before him, and the air of indifference which he usually bore; but at length he beckoned one of his men to his side, and spoke a few words to him in a very low tone, only suffering the last two to be heard: they were, "You understand!"