'Hola! upon my soul, 'tis our very good friend, M. Blane of Garde Ecossais!' said the Chevalier, with as much surprise as if he had not been observing me for an hour past. 'Well, sir?'
'Retire—leave our vicinity; this espionnage is not honourable, and you trust me too far.'
'Ah! you begin to threaten us—eh?'
'If, in one hour hence, I find you near our cantonments, by Heaven, messieurs, I will denounce you both to the Duke de la Lavalette!'
'Mort de tout les diables! he does threaten us, Chevalier,' said the Prince, haughtily. 'Very well, M. Blane, I command my father's troops at Bitche, the first town upon the Alsatian frontier; you will find me there in other guise than that of an abbé.'
'And if you pass Bitche with bones unbroken, and come the length of La Mothe,' added the Chevalier, 'you will find me there, with my helmet on, my young soldier. I shall then be at the head of Duke Charles's old steel crabs, whose claws are sharp enough, believe me—and so till then, adieu, my dear Garde Ecossais.'
'Adieu, messieurs,' said I, and we separated with cold salutes.
They galloped away, and I rejoined my three companions, who were singing vociferously an old Scottish rant, and becoming more jolly than ever, over the sparkling wine of Champagne.