"Since all is right, there is no use in my doing so; and it would be most annoying to M. de la Chatre to be asked to verify his own writing, especially as the very object of this pass was to avoid my being delayed on my march this night."
The captain, a young and handsome gentleman, with a frank look and a courteous manner, hesitated.
"Monsieur will understand," I went on, "that every minute we stand here opposes the purpose for which that pass was given."
"I begin to see," he said, with a look of pleasurable discovery. "You have changed sides, monsieur? You have repented of your errors and have put your great skill and courage at the service of M. de la Chatre?"
"It is for M. de la Chatre to say what passed between us this evening," said I, with a discreet air. "Then an revoir, captain! I trust we shall meet again."
And I took back the pass, and ordered my men forward, as if the young captain had already given me permission to go on. Then I saluted him, and returned to Julie. The captain gazed at us in a kind of abstraction as we passed. His men were as dumbfounded as my own. His foremost horsemen had heard the short conversation concerning the pass, and were, doubtless, as much at a loss as their leader was. When we were well in the mountain road, I heard him give the order to march, and, looking back, I saw them turn wearily up the road to the château. We continued to put distance between ourselves and Clochonne.
On the northern slope of the mountains, we made but one stop. That was at Godeau's, where we had a short rest and some wine. I gave the good Marianne a last gold piece, received her Godspeed, and took up our march, this time ignoring the forest path to Maury, following the old road southward instead. It would be time to set up our camp when we should be out of the province of Berry.
It was while we were yet ascending the northern slope of the mountains, and the moon still shone now and then from the west through the trees, that we talked, Julie and I, of the time that lay before us. It mattered not to me under which form our marriage should be. One creed was to me only a little the better of the two, in that it involved less of subjection, but if the outward profession of the other would facilitate our union, I would make that profession, reserving always my sword and my true sympathies for the side that my fathers had taken. But when I proposed this, Julie said that I ought not even to assume the appearance of having changed my colors, and that it was for her, the woman, to adopt mine, therefore she would abjure and we should be married as Protestants. She could answer for the consent of her father, who could not refuse his preserver and hers. It pleased me that she made no mention of her lack of dowry, for their little estate would certainly be confiscated after her father's flight. Judging my love by her own, she knew that I valued herself alone above all the fortunes in the world. We would, then, be united as soon as her father, guided by Frojac, should join us in Guienne. She and her father should then go to Nerac, there to await my return from the war that was now imminent; for I was to continue advancing my fortunes by following those of our Henri on the field. Some day our leader would overcome his enemies and mount the throne that the fated Henri III.—ailing survivor of three short-lived brothers—would soon leave vacant. Then our King would restore us our estates, I should rebuild La Tournoire, and there we should pass our days in the peace that our Henri's accession would bring his kingdom. Blaise should marry Jeannotte and be our steward.
So we gave word to our intentions and hopes, those that I have here written and many others. Some have been realized, and some have not, but all that I have here written have been.
Once, years after that night, having gone up to Paris to give our two eldest children a glimpse of the court, we were walking through the gallery built by our great Henri IV., to connect the Louvre with the Tuileries, when my son asked me who was the painted fat old lady that was staring so hard at him as if she had seen him before. In turn I asked the Abbé Brantome, who happened to be passing.