The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James

It was clear, however, that the whole party--whether these additions had been made by the magnifying powers of Moric Endem when he announced my name to the host or not--it was clear that the whole party were now determined to look upon me as a very great man, and to make that an excuse to themselves for sneaking away without taking any farther notice of the chastisement inflicted on their companion. Accordingly, after hesitating and looking doubtful, and whispering for several minutes more, one by one disappeared through the doorway, and we were left in possession of the hall to discuss our supper in tranquillity.

I should not have mentioned the subject at all in conversation with my companions, but both Martin Vern and his nephew talked of it, laughing as soon as the others were gone, and, while they loaded me with thanks and praises, made many a shrewd and jesting comment upon the pusillanimity of the departed. It had another effect, however, for the landlord's voice was heard several times without, talking loud to different persons; and, from two or three words that could be distinguished, I found that he was thus loud in my praise. When, at length, he was putting some dessert upon the table before us, he spoke to me in a whisper, saying that there were without two or three gentlemen who had served in the last war, who had taken arms again, and were very anxious to know whether I could and would receive them into my company.

I replied, "That I could not leave the party I was escorting, but that I would send my lieutenant," by which sonorous name I dignified good Moric Endem, to speak with them at once; choosing, in such a case, to trust to his judgment much sooner than to my own. The result was, that he engaged for me five stout fellows as ever were seen, of whom he had known something in the preceding wars, and who also had the advantage of coming to me with horses, arms, and accoutrements complete. The whole of this was settled during that evening, and the joy and satisfaction which I myself might feel at my growing importance was far outdone by that of good Martin Vern and his companions, who now thought themselves perfectly competent to encounter any Catholic force in the neighbourhood. Two more, but not exactly of such good stuff, were added to our number at Barbezieux, and, thus forming a troop of ten men, we advanced on the road to Angoulême, as far, or perhaps farther, than it was prudent so to do.

We had heard that the Prince de Condé and the rest were at that time at the town of Sainctes; but a few miles on the other side of Barbezieux we learned that the army had marched in a different direction, and had apparently quitted the Charente. News, too, was heard, that the Catholic garrison of St. Jean d'Angely had sent out considerable detachments into the country on the side of Pons, while light-armed troops from Angoulême were scouring the fields in every direction, for the purpose, it was supposed, of supplying the city in case of siege.

In conversing over these affairs, which certainly bore a somewhat menacing aspect, with Martin Vern, I found that he was determined to proceed with his nephew and his partner to the camp of the Prince de Condé, but was in a state of very considerable alarm on account of his wife and children. Under these circumstances, I advised him strongly to despatch messengers to the Duke of Montpensier, who was at that time, we understood, at St. Junien, in order to demand a safe conduct for his family, which would immediately be given on his declaring them to be all Catholics. He seized at the proposal eagerly; a messenger was easily found, and set out with directions to pass on the other side of Angoulême on his return, and to meet us at Cognac, whither we now bent our steps with slow and cautious journeys. Cognac we found in the hands of a small Protestant force, and we then first learned that the siege of Angoulême by the Prince de Condé had actually begun.

The rest of our journey, then, would have been easily completed, even without the safe conduct; but, as Martin Vern was aware he should have to return to Bordeaux himself at all events, he judged it best to wait for the safe conduct in the suburb of Cognac, and to send the women of his party on at once to Paris, as it was impossible to say what turn the war might take.

Though the Protestant force would not admit the soldiery within the limits of their little garrison, I there made the acquaintance of several officers and gentlemen attached to the Protestant cause, and became still farther acquainted practically with the habits of a camp and an army. Though I had now under my command several good and experienced soldiers, yet Moric Endem was my chief adviser, and I was glad to find myself justified to the full in having trusted him so far by the opinions and commendation of all the military men with whom I was brought in contact. Every one laughed when his name was mentioned, but every one also declared that he was as brave as a lion, and might with safety be fully trusted by those who chose to trust him fully. Those who chose to show him, on the contrary, either unkindness or want of confidence, would need, they said, the eyes of Argus to prevent the old soldier from finding some means of retribution. He was now fully and completely established as my lieutenant; but he was as jealous of his leader's reputation and authority as his own, and presumed in no degree upon his new station. The short time we spent at Cognac gave me an opportunity of becoming more thoroughly acquainted with my men, and of making them generally aware of my views and purposes.

At length, with the interval of one day, the safe conduct arrived, and, with many embraces and some tears, good Martin Vern saw his wife and children depart for Paris. An hour or two after they were gone, we ourselves commenced our march; and, just as evening was setting in, saw the high hill of Angoulême rising above the lesser slopes that border the Charente.

CHAPTER VII.

It was night when we reached the outposts of the Prince de Condé's camp, and we were stopped by a small body of soldiers, who demanded the sign, which, of course, we could not give. Our errand was soon explained, however, and we were led on into the camp, which was not entrenched, nor, indeed, defended in any other way. It presented a gay, mixed scene, where little regularity of any kind existed, except in the lines of the tents, which resembled long streets when once one had passed the skirts of the camp, where plenty of disorder was going on. My followers and horses were left at the second guard, while I and the merchants were led on foot through the canvass streets and squares to the spot where the tent of the Prince de Condé was pitched. Though certainly not a very convenient dwelling, It was divided into two chambers, if not three, and we were detained in the outer one while the prince was informed of our arrival.