Helen turned pale, and trembled, but she replied not; and her companion added, after a moment's thought, "Well! that shall be cared for, too, as far as I am able.--What was it you said about our good old friend the Commander? Dead, did you say? Why, he fell not on the field!"
"No," answered Helen in a subdued tone, "He died last night of his wounds."
"God have his soul in guard!" cried the stout soldier. "He was a good old man!--But now, my poor young lady, to tell truth--though I am right glad to see you--yet your coming puzzles me not a little. I know not what to do with you here. They say, pity is akin to love, but--" He saw that Helen's cheek turned pale; and, he added quickly, "Nay, do not fear; There's honour amongst thieves; and I am not one to take advantage of misfortune--What I would say is simply, that I know not how or where to lodge you here in honesty or safety. Then, too, where the King goes I must go; and--"
"Nay, Sir," replied Helen, "Do not embarrass yourself, for me or my fate. Deeply grateful am I for kindness to one who, when you found me, was outcast, hopeless, and unfriended; but I am now no longer without protection and support. Good Monsieur Estoc, whom I think you know, sent me hither to tell you all that had occurred, hoping that your influence with the King, or his ministers, might enable you to aid Monsieur de Montigni and Mademoiselle d'Albret; but Monsieur Estoc will protect me. He has promised to do so, and I am sure he will perform it."
"Ay, good faith, that he will!" answered Chasseron, "and it is better that he should than that I should. As to influence, Heaven knows, the King, good man, can rarely be got to do what he ought; and, with his ministers, I have none, alas! But what I can do, I will; and, in the mean time, tell old Estoc, that you have seen Chasseron; and mayhap he will be with him, with a score of lances, for a day's sport. Let him give me speedy news of what is going on. I am here for a day or two, it seems, and cannot get away, for my movements depend on greater men than myself.--But to return to your own business--What do you do next?"
"To-morrow I am to join Monsieur Estoc," replied Helen, "and go with him to Marzay. They think," she added in a hesitating tone, "that I maybe of service there to Mademoiselle d'Albret. To-night I propose to go with the two men who came with me, to Rolleboise or Bonnières."
"Right! right!" replied Chasseron; "yet they are full of our people.--Well, I will send some one with you, to secure you protection.--And now," he continued in a lower and a gentler tone, "when I first found you, I think you were but poorly supplied with that, to which we are all, both great and small, obliged to bow our heads, though it be an idol: I mean money. I am, it is true, very poor; but--"
Helen waved her hand, bending her eyes to the ground, and colouring deeply. Why she did so, the reader must ask of his own heart; but, as her companion spoke, the words he had just before used, that "pity is akin to love," rung in her ears again.
"I have enough," she said, "more than enough, thanks to the generosity of poor Monsieur de Liancourt. Accept, Sir, my deepest, my most heartfelt thanks. Had it not been for you, I should not have been, at this hour, alive; and now I will keep you no longer, for I know you are in haste."
"Yet stay a moment," said Chasseron. "I must send some one with you. He shall be here directly. Now farewell."