"It is very true, Your Highness," said M. de Rondiniacque; then addressing me, he observed, courteously enough, but with something of raillery in his tone, that, if the guard I had used was not altogether of the schools, it had yet saved His Highness's life as surely as could the interference of a maître d'escrime.
"You are a good Protestant, M. de Rondiniacque," said the Prince, "and therefore, I make sure, read your Bible well and often." And at this the little company laughed as at an excellent jest. "You will no doubt have observed in the course of that reading that the pebble and the sling of the son of Jesse were sufficient to the overthrow of a most mighty man of war, even as this youth's sword came between my person and death, while the maître d'escrime was not in the way."
His Highness here turned again to me, detaching at the same time his own sword from his side. He then drew it from its sheath, and, laying that upon the grass, wiped the blade very carefully with his handkerchief. And I do think the significance of that action would have made me well-nigh faint with sickness, with that poor fellow that had died in cursing some priest lying so near and so still, had not His Highness straightway handed me the hilt of the weapon that slew him.
"I prithee, good lad, take this in place of that which is broken," he said.
And then I forgot the dead man, and grew first hot and then cold for the great kindness shown to me. I dropped upon my knee, and—"I humbly thank you, sire," I said, "for so great an honor."
He reached out his hand to raise me.
"Kneel not to me, boy," he said; "nor call me sire. I am no king. But I hope you will keep the sword. 'T is a good blade."
"'T is the same," said Mr. Bentinck, "that His Highness did use at the siege of Maestricht, the day he received the musket-ball in his arm."
"You speak truth, friend William," replied the Prince. "That was an unlucky siege. I hope the sword will not bring you my ill-fortune, young gentleman; for I am at times an unlucky soldier. But, indeed, it is Count Schomberg here must bear the blame of Maestricht."
"Did he run, sir?" I asked with simple curiosity, as I gazed in wonder at the famous veteran.