"I said, my Lord," replied the man, "that the reiters have been cut to pieces, and I saw the troops that defeated them bring in the wounded and prisoners last night into La Ferté."
"Ventre bleu! This is news indeed," cried the other; and instantly turning, he quitted the window and advanced into the room.
While this conversation had been going on without, a quick conference had been going on between the personages whose horses were held without. The chamber in which they were assembled was an upstairs' room, with two beds in two several corners, and a table in the midst covered with a clean white table-cloth, and ornamented in the centre with a mustard-pot, a salt-seller, and a small bottle of vinegar, while four or five spoons were ranged around.
At the side of the table appeared the Duke of Guise, dining with as good an appetite off a large piece of unsalted boiled beef, as off any of the fine stews and salmis of his cook Maître Lanecque. Five or six other gentlemen were around, diligently employed in the same occupation; and one who had finished two bowls of soup at a place where they had previously stopped, now declaring that he had no appetite, had taken his seat in the window. The servants of the Duke and of his companions were at dinner below, and the landlord himself was excluded from the room, that dining and consultation might go on at the same time.
"It is most unfortunate," said the Duke of Guise, as soon as he had seated himself at the table, "it is most unfortunate that this youth has not kept his word with me. Our horses and men are both fatigued to death; and yet, after what happened the other day at Mareuil, it would be madness to remain here all night with only twenty horsemen."
"You have got timid, fair cousin," replied one of the gentlemen present. "We shall have you wrapping yourself up in a velvet gown, and setting up a conférrie, in imitation of our excellent, noble, and manly king."
The Duke w as habitually rash enough to be justified in laughing at the charge, and he replied, "It is on your account, my pretty cousin, that I fear the most. You know what the reiters have sworn to do with you, if they catch you."
"It is most unfortunate indeed," said an older and a graver man; "most unfortunate, that this Count de Logères should have deceived you. It might have been better, perhaps, to trust to some more tried and experienced friend."
"Oh, you do him wrong, Laval; you do him wrong," replied the Duke. "It is neither want of faith or good will, I can be sworn. Some accident, such as may happen to any of us, has detained him. I am very anxious about him, and somewhat reproach myself for having made him march with only half his numbers. Had his whole band been with him, he might have made head against the reiters, if he met with them. But now he has less than half their reputed number. Nevertheless," he continued, "his absence is, as you say, most unfortunate; for--with these Germans on our left, and the movements of Henry's Swiss upon our right--they might catch us as the Gascons do wild ducks, in the net, through the meshes of which we have been foolish enough to thrust our own heads. I pray thee, Brissac, go down to mine host of the house, and gather together some of the notable men of the place, to see if we cannot by any means purchase horses to carry us on. Who are you speaking to, Aumale?" he continued, raising his voice, and addressing the youth who sat in the window.
"Good news, good news!" cried the young man springing down, and coming forward into the room. "The reiters have been cut to pieces near Gandelu. There is a fellow below who has seen the victorious troops, and the wounded and the prisoners."