'Except the Chevalier Hepburn.'
'Yes.'
'Ah! of course; except our countryman, the Chevalier Hepburn.'
'How! our countryman?' I asked.
'I detected the Scot as well as the soldier, sir,' said the old man, smiling and pressing my hands. 'I presume you belong to the French army?'
'Perhaps I do; but you are very inquisitive.'
'Do not be alarmed; though I live in the territories of Duke Charles, I am Father Allan Colville, a priest of the Scottish college founded by Gregory XIII. at Pontamoussin, some miles from this, in the bailiewick of St. Michel, and have no interest in the quarrels of kings and dukes, though the young Prince of Vaudemont, who has a fancy for me, made me custodier of the reliques of St. Lucy, before which your companion is now at prayer. The sister of Vincent de Paule is your wife, I presume, in disguise?'
'No,' said I, colouring to the temples.
'Your sister, perhaps?'
'No,' I repeated, with increasing vexation; 'the exigencies of war force us to travel together, though we are neither kith nor kin.'