"No; but they told him you would have messages for our principal people," answered Pierrot,—adding, not unwilling, perhaps, to show a little scorn for one whose strong will had exercised what may be called an unnatural ascendency over him more than once, "and Jargeau never believed that they would trust messages to such a young boy as you."
"He must have thought my memory very bad," replied the lad, "not to be able to carry a message from England to France. But my memory is not so bad, good Pierrot, as he may find some day. At all events, if Rochelle is to be lost by the intrigues of a man who does not choose his comrades to know where succor lies when they like to seek it, all the world shall know who ruined a good cause. But I suppose, Pierrot, all he told me of the meeting of the Reformed leaders at Mauzé was a mere lure."
"No, no; it is all true," answered Pierrot. "The prince is there, and Rohan, and a dozen of others; and if you could have got safe through without the loss of your bags, you would have found some of those you want; but I suppose he had provided against that. I don't know: he never told me; but it is likely."
"Very likely," replied Master Ned; "but you say 'some of those I want.' I only want one person; and him I must see if it be possible. Is Maître Clement Tournon in the city?"
"He is not with those in the Chateau of Mauzé," replied Pierrot. "I know little of him. He is a goldsmith,—a very quiet man?"
"Probably," answered the lad: "quiet men are the best friends in this world. So, on to Rochelle! Will they let us pass the gates at night?"
"'Tis a hard question to answer," said Pierrot. "Sometimes they are very strict, sometimes lax enough. But it is somewhat late, young lad, and, if none of the guard is in love with moonlight, we shall find them all asleep."
"Asleep in such times as these!" exclaimed the young man.
"Why, either the Papists are trying to throw us off our guard," said Pierrot, "or they are too busy cutting off each others' heads to mind ours. They have not troubled us much as yet. True, they have taken a town or two, and stopped some of our parties into the country, and begun what they call lines; but not a man of their armies has come within cannon-shot. And there is not much more strictness than in the times of the little war which has been going on for the last fifty years. But the people in the town vary from time to time. When one man commands, the very nose of a Catholic will be fired at; and, when another is on duty, the gates will be opened to Schomberg, or the devil, or any one else who comes in a civil manner. But there is Rochelle peeping over the trees yonder, just as if she had come out to see the moon shine."
"Well, then, mark me, good Pierrot," said Master Ned, "I expect you to do all you can to make them open the gates to us. You understand what that means, I suppose?"