"To every one," replied the count, with a low bow. "I could never think of asking your lordship to my house without including your friends and followers."
"You do me too much honor," said Montagu. "But amongst my followers you will find a comrade of the worthy gentleman who did me the favor of being my harbinger. Now, if I have any influence with you, my lord count, I would bespeak for him a high place, not in your esteem, but on your castle. Doubtless you have battlements, or iron stanchions, or things of that kind, about, to which you could raise him sus per col. He has all the same qualities as his friend, whom you already know, and is a Savoyard, he says,[5]—though we have some doubts upon the subject."
"I should be most happy to oblige your lordship in any thing," answered the Count de Bourbonne; "but you know the king is the bestower of all dignities and the fountain of all honors; and therefore I cannot take upon me to raise the gentleman to the elevated position you desire for him."
"Well, well," replied Montagu, "time works wonders; and doubtless he will meet his deserts sooner or later. May I ask if you have lately heard from our mutual friend the Cardinal de Richelieu?"
"Last night, my lord," answered Bourbonne. "He was quite well, and desired me to inquire particularly after your health."
"I expected no less of his courtesy," said the English nobleman. "But I see your people are closing up pretty near, and, if I mistake not, have got possession of my valet's horse, with a desire of lightening the poor beast's load. We had probably better join them, as the man does not comprehend much French; and Englishmen are sometimes so surly and stupid that it is impossible to get them to comprehend the force of numbers."
"At your pleasure," replied the count; and, making a sign to his followers on the road to the north to join him, he went quietly to the spot where Mr. Oakingham and Lord Montagu's servants had remained.
He now somewhat changed his tone, and, abandoning the bantering mood in which he and Lord Montagu had indulged, but still with undiminished courtesy of manner, required all present but his own followers to give up their arms. Edward for one did so with regret; but still it was some satisfaction to him to see the treacherous blacksmith lying on the bank with his comrade busily engaged in bandaging his wounded shoulder.
"I will now have the honor of conducting you to my poor house," said the count, bowing to Lord Montagu; and, with five or six armed men before and a larger number following, with three on each side to guard against any evasion, he commenced his march. Before departing, however, he spoke a word or two to one of his attendants; and Edward remarked that, as they went, a diligent examination was made of all the pistols which his party had given up, as if to ascertain which had been discharged; and he doubted not that some consequences not very agreeable to himself would follow the inevitable discovery that he had fired the shot which had wounded the traitor.
The road wound through one of the wildest parts of France, just upon the frontier of Champagne and Bar; two or three small rivers had to be crossed; the country was but little cultivated, bearing more the aspect of a sandy moor than of the entrance to one of the richest wine-districts in the world; and more than once Edward cast his eyes around, thinking that it might be no difficult matter to escape and find a refuge in Lorraine if he could but avoid the pistol-shots which were sure to follow him. Had he been intrusted with the care of Lord Montagu's papers he would certainly have made the attempt, but he knew not even who carried them, and he resolved not to abandon his lord except for his service.