D'Alvimar profited discreetly by his new friend's generosity. Although he had many faults, he could not be accused of showing any lack of pride in the way of accepting offers of money, and yet God knows that he was not rich, and that the whole of his slender revenue was none too much to meet the demands of his wardrobe and his horses. He indulged in no follies, and, "by the most painstaking economy, succeeded in appearing as well clad and mounted as many others whose pockets were better lined than his."
But when he found that he was threatened with a criminal prosecution, he remembered the overtures and invitations of the young Berry squire, and adopted the wise plan of seeking refuge with him.
He judged from what Guillaume had told him of his district, that it was at that period the most tranquil province in France.
Monsieur le Prince de Condé was its governor, and, being thoroughly content with the fat sum by which he had been bought, he passed his time partly in his château of Montrond at Saint Amand, partly in his good city of Bourges, where he was heartily engaged in the king's service, and even more heartily in that of the Jesuits.
This so-called tranquillity of Berry would be considered in our day a state of civil war, for many things were taking place there which we shall narrate in their proper time and place; but it was a state of perfect peace and orderliness if we compare it with what was taking place elsewhere, and especially with what had taken place in the preceding century.
Thus Sciarra d'Alvimar was justified in hoping that he would not be molested in one of the old châteaux of lower Berry, where the Calvinists had attempted no sudden outbreaks for several years, and where the royalist nobles, former Leaguers, politiques and others, no longer had the opportunity or the pretext to revictual their men-at-arms at the expense of their neighbors, friends or foes.
D'Alvimar reached the château of Ars one morning in autumn, about eight o'clock, accompanied by a single servant, an old Spaniard, who claimed to be of noble birth, but whom want had reduced to the necessity of taking service, and who seemed in little danger of betraying his master's secrets, for he spoke very little—sometimes not three words a week.
Both were well mounted, and, although their horses were laden with heavy boxes, they had made the journey from Paris in less than seven days.
The first person whom they saw in the courtyard of the castle was its young lord, Guillaume, just mounting for something more than a morning's ride, for he was attended by several of his retainers, prepared to ride forth with him—that is to say, with their horses laden with luggage.
"Ah! you arrive in the nick of time!" he cried, hastening to embrace D'Alvimar; "I am just setting out to witness the fêtes to be given by Monsieur le Prince at Bourges, to celebrate the birth of his son, the Duc d'Enghien.[3] There will be whole days of dancing and play-acting, target-shooting, fireworks, and a thousand other amusing things. Now you have come, I will postpone my departure for a few hours so that you can go with me. Come into my house, and rest and eat. I will see to it that you are supplied with a fresh horse, for the one you are riding, well as he looks, can hardly be in condition to do eighteen more leagues to-day."