"Well," said Martin-Guerre, modestly, "I do like to think that Malemort, Pilletrousse, the two Scharfensteins, Lactance, Yvonnet, and Ambrosio are not just the sort of fellows to be looked upon with contempt."
"I should think not!" said Gabriel. "What rough diamonds they are!"
"If Monseigneur," Martin continued, "should be willing to add to their number Landry, Chesnel, Aubriot, Contamine, and Balu, veterans of the war in Lorraine, I rather think that with Monseigneur at our head, and four or five of our people from here to wait upon us, we should have a pretty fine party to show to our friends, and better still, to our enemies."
"Yes, to be sure," said Gabriel; "arms and heads of iron! You must arm and equip these fine fellows with the least possible delay, Martin. But you have done enough for to-day. You have made good use of your time, my friend, and I thank you for it. My day, although it has been an active and painful one, is not yet ended."
"Where is Monseigneur going this evening?" asked Martin-Guerre.
"To the Louvre, to wait upon Monsieur de Guise, who expects me at eight o'clock," said Gabriel, rising. "But thanks to your prompt zeal, Martin, I hope that some of the difficulties which might have arisen in my interview with the duke are removed beforehand."
"Oh, I am very happy to know it, Monseigneur!"
"And so am I, Martin. You can't dream how necessary it is that I should succeed! Oh, I will succeed!"
The noble youth repeated in his heart as he walked to the door to take his way to the Louvre,—
"Yes, I will save you, dear father; my own Diane, I will save you!"