"Be still, D'Arçy," said Raoul, "your tongue runs like a woman's," and he conducted me to Marie and her aunt, who, between them, made a pretty speech in my honour. They wished me to enter the carriage, which, though badly damaged, remained fit for use; but to this I would not agree, preferring to walk beside it.
While the coachman put his harness straight, and quietened his frightened horses, the ladies spoke a few kind words to the wounded Black Mantle who had fought for them so bravely. Fortunately he had not been seriously hurt, and was able, with the assistance of his friends, to walk home.
Suddenly young D'Arçy, who could never remain long in a serious humour, requested us to wait a few minutes, and without staying for answer darted off to his friends, who immediately dispersed.
"What mischief is the young madcap bent on now?" I asked, wonderingly.
"Armand has a brilliant idea," Raoul replied, laughing, "be patient and you will see."
Now that the excitement had cooled, I looked round for the Englishman, but he had vanished, for which, when D'Arçy's hare-brained scheme became plain, I was not altogether sorry.
CHAPTER XIII.
I again Encounter Maubranne.
The Queen's Guards had disappeared; the coachman was mounting to his seat when Armand and his friends returned, flourishing lighted torches, and singing a ridiculous song about the Abbé de Retz.