"A despatch from the Admiral, monsieur," I said, saluting and handing him the packet.
Tearing off the covering, he read the letter by the light of a torch, folded the paper, and put it away carefully. By his face one could not judge whether the information he had received was good or ill.
"You are from Rochelle?" he asked sharply.
"I have just ridden from there, monsieur."
"And are you returning?"
"No, monsieur. I am proceeding to Cognac."
"You have had a brisk ride, and your horse is in leed of rest. Come with me."
He conducted me to an inn, wakened the landlord, and did not leave until my horse was comfortably stabled, and preparations for a good supper were in progress. Then he said: "You will be starting early in the morning. Have a care on your journey to Cognac. Bodies of the enemy have been prowling around the district for some days."
"I thank you, monsieur. I was unaware they had ventured so far south."
"They are striking, I think, at Angoulême," he said; "I have sent a courier to Rochelle with the news. Good-night! And don't let the rascals snap you up."