But, before he could finish the sentence, the gentleman to whom it was addressed started forward and caught him by the hand, exclaiming, "What! Ned, my boy! How came you to seek me here?"
"I did not seek you here, my lord," replied Edward, "and, to say truth, if I had known you were here, I should not have come. I was on my way to Aix to join your lordship, according to your commands; but the road is impassable. Some of us have been half drowned; and, though this is a desolate-looking place, we said, 'Any port in a storm.'"
"But who are these gentlemen with you?" asked Lord Montagu, still speaking in French, but running his eye somewhat doubtfully over the group of five persons who had advanced some way from the door.
"Those two," answered Edward, in the same gay tone, which was generally affected by pages of noble houses,—"those two are my servants, or rather your lordship's, the renowned and reformed Pierrot la Grange and the facetious Jacques Beaupré. Those two—the one with the lantern and the other with the hammer—are two respectable blacksmiths and horse-doctors, who have joined themselves on to me and mine and did good service in curing one of my horses. They profess to be Savoyards returning to their own country."
"They shall be welcome," said Lord Montagu, smiling,—"most welcome, for I have no less than five good horses sick of some distemper at Chambéry. But who is the other,—that gentleman who seems half drowned?"
"He was half drowned a few minutes ago, my lord," replied the youth, "and so was I; but he will probably tell you more of himself if you will ask him. His horse leaped with him into the river, and it was a hard matter to get him out."
"I hold it but courteous in these bad times," said Lord Montagu, "to follow the old knightly rule and ask no stranger any questions,—before he has cut your throat; and therefore we will invite him to sup, and leave him to explain himself. He seems a gentleman."
"Yes, my lord," was all Edward's reply; but a very peculiar expression crossed his countenance as he uttered those three words, which, had Lord Montagu seen it, might have caused more inquiry. That nobleman, however, had turned to speak for a moment with the gentlemen who had been seated with him; and he then advanced to the stranger, inviting him courteously to be seated and take some refreshment, and expressing sorrow for the accident which had befallen him. He also bade the other four sit down and eat; and, there being no place for so many at the table, filled as it was, most of those who had already supped rose and gathered together at the end of the board, Edward taking his place amongst them without touching any thing.
Lord Montagu introduced him to the rest in kind terms, saying, "My page and young friend, Monsieur Edward Langdale, Monsieur le Prince de ——, Monsieur le Comte de ——, Monsieur l'Abbé Scaglia, the Duke of Savoy's prime minister. We came here on a little party of pleasure, Ned, and sat long over our cups, in truth, hardly hearing that the storm was still going on. Come, my good youth, sit down and eat. You must be well weary of all the adventures which the fair duchess writes me you have gone through. Eat, boy! eat!"
"Your pardon, my lord," said Edward, gravely: "I will take a cup of wine here standing: that is all. I have much to tell your lordship."