"What is it?" cried a cheery voice from the door. "Do you know the King is in the street?"
"Yes," said I, pointing to the star on Raoul's breast, "he has been here, and that is what he has left behind."
"Hurrah!" cried the Englishman. "Bravo, Raoul! You deserve your luck if any one does."
"I owe the honour to Marshal Turenne's considerate kindness."
"And to something else! The Marshal doesn't escort young Louis round giving brilliants to every one who was in the battle! I suppose you have heard we are moving again? Condé has left his army and gone to Paris. I really believe the war will not last much longer."
"I hope not," said I heartily; "if it does, the country will be ruined completely."
"Condé and his friends are to blame for that. But I must be off now; I am baggage-minder-in-chief to the Court."
"It must be a terrible responsibility having to look after the ladies' dresses," laughed Raoul.
"Don't be in too great a hurry to take the field," advised Humphreys, as we wished him good-bye. "That is a nasty gash on the sword-arm, and will require some time to heal. Does Pillot stay behind? Ah! I congratulate you, Beauchamp; he is a capital nurse. See that M. Beauchamp is quite well before he leaves, Pillot."
"Monsieur will find that I shall do my best," exclaimed the little man, and then with a last farewell to Raoul, Humphreys and I took our departure.