The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and II. G. P. R. James

lifting up the flap of his jerkin, he drew from an inner pocket a number of dirty pieces of paper, of which he placed in my hands two, saying, "There they are."

      The first I opened was in a strange hand, and it went on as follows:

      "This is to signify that Moric Endem is the greatest liar in Europe; but none the worse for that. He fights like a tiger, and will now and then obey his orders."

      This was signed "Martigues;" and the other, which I instantly recognised as the same handwriting wherein Stuart had given me a letter to the Prince de Condé, was much in the same strain.

      "I hereby aver," it said, "That Moric Endem is better than he looks. He will stand by a friend or leader till the last, and has done so many brave things, that he is a fool for bragging of things that he never did."

      I smiled as I read such accounts of my volunteer, but paused for a moment to consider whether there was a possibility of my being deceived. Had I been still is the frame of mind in which I had set out that morning, I should have lost my opportunity, and rejected the offer of a man who afterward proved of infinite use to me. But, as I have said, I had become somewhat more confident in myself by this time: Stuart's recommendation to increase my numbers as far as possible had been strong; and therefore I determined to run the risk, as in case of any malconduct on the part of my new follower, I and Andriot were at least two to one against him.

      "And now, Monsieur Moric Endem," I said, "Which would you rather serve on, the Catholic or the Protestant side? Answer me fairly, for on the reply hangs all our proceedings."

      "That is not a fair question," he cried, flinging down his cap upon the ground with some vehemence. "That is not a fair question to a soldier of fortune. The matter, see you, is balanced pretty evenly, my young lord. With the Catholics there is pay and but little plunder, for the Protestants have nothing to lose. With the Protestants there is no pay but plenty of plunder; for each Catholic, like a fool, comes with a fortune on his back. I have, indeed, a little hankering one way--"

      "What, then," I said, "do the Protestants give no pay?"

      "By St. Geronimo," he cried, slapping his thigh, "You are a Catholic! But, no," he continued, a moment after, "I remember quite well Cerons was a Protestant, and so was his cousin the Baron de Blancford. If you are the young lord, you are a Protestant too."

      "Perhaps it may be so," I replied, in a low tone, but with a significant look.

      "Well, then, I am your man," he said, without raising his voice; "for, to say sooth, I was born and bred a Protestant. But it is full thirty years since I thought of those things; and, on my honour, I don't well know what's the difference now. As to the rest, my young master, you must give me a crown to gild my hand, and you must give me and my horse something to eat till we get to the army, at all events; for, if I had not met with you this night, he and I would have shared supper; that is to say, he would have had the hay and I the water, and to-morrow we might have been obliged to prove troublesome to any one we met upon the road. I declare, so help me Heaven, I have not seen a crown piece for the last two months."

      "I am nearly as poor as yourself, Moric," I said; "however, there is a crown for you, and now you are my follower; but I expect to see a change in your appearance by to-morrow, and you had better get your armour on your back, as I intend to do with mine, so that we may be well prepared for all things."

      "You shall see a change, you shall see a change, sir," cried the man; "and I will help to fill your purse as you have now helped to fill mine. I will get this crown changed directly into silver and billon, that it may feel heavy in my purse, and make me think of the days of old; for I have had many more crowns in my pocket, I dare say, than you have in yours now. But, however--I don't know how it was--peace never lasted six months without finding me as poor as ever; the pockets grew empty, and the crowns went away, some to one slut, some to another, and the rest, as I have heard Stuart tell of an English prince, were drowned in butts of Malmsey or Burgundy, as the case might be. But I will go and polish my armour, and patch my jacket, and wash my face, and trim my beard, and then I must try and get a new horse the first time I meet an enemy, though it is to be confessed that on the back of that brute there are ten chances to one against me."

      While Moric Endem was speaking, the landlord came from the house to seek me, telling me that my supper was not only ready, but getting cold; and, leaving my new follower to make the best arrangements he could, I re-entered the hall of the inn.

      I found the party that I had left there concluding their supper, and they all looked at me as I sat down to mine with a sort of shy and anxious, but yet not a reserved look, somewhat like that which a dog puts on when he is willing to be familiar with us, but somewhat afraid of trusting to our kindness. The two elder men, however, and the elder lady, entered into conversation with me after a short time, and I saw evidently that they were endeavouring to probe my character and feelings. Those, however, were sad days, when no one dared to trust to his neighbour; and I as little chose to confide my views or purposes to them, as they chose to put any trust or confidence in me.

      The conversation, then, was merely general: I found that one of the elder merchants had travelled much, and had considerable information, and he seemed not a little surprised to find that a young soldier could possess so much general knowledge as I had acquired during my long period of study.

      The younger people, too, began to draw nearer to me; and some little sportive jests, such as I would have used towards my cousins at Blancford, appeared completely to win their hearts, so that they were speedily clinging round me, playing with the tassels of my cloak or my sword-knot, and taking a thousand little liberties, for which they were, of course, gravely reproved by their elders.

      The young man who had been called Martin, however, sat silent and thoughtful for a long time, and at length only spoke to ask me some questions concerning the movements of the armies. The first words on that subject, however, seemed a signal for the party to break up, his uncle interrupting him immediately by saying it was time to go to bed; and the whole then retired, wishing me good-night and a prosperous journey on the morrow.

      Their reserved conduct was not explained till the following morning, when, on rising early, I saw them setting off from the courtyard, and the aubergiste, as innkeepers generally do, came instantly to volunteer every information he possessed regarding the guests who were just gone.

      "Ay, poor people," he said, "silly people they are. I told them they might trust to you, seigneur, and what a protection it would be to them to have you with them; for they are a party of rich merchants, as you might well see, sir, and doubtless have their pockets lined with many a good gold piece, so that they are afraid of all the bands of plunderers about, especially at the passages of the rivers."

      "What religion are they of?" demanded I, nothing doubting they were Protestants, as the landlord himself was well known to be of my own creed.

      To my astonishment, however, he answered that they were "poor misguided Catholics. That is to say," he continued, "they are what people are beginning to call nowadays, I hear, politics, which means people that are neither very much one thing nor the other. That eldest one is the well-known Paris merchant, Martin Vern, who has so much to do with the Jews and Lombards. I've a great notion he's a Protestant at heart; though his life, and all his goods, which he loves better than his life, would be in jeopardy every hour in Paris if he did not go to mass as regularly as the clock strikes the hour. It seems that young Martin, the nephew, had his father's promise to be made a soldier of; but the father died a month or so ago, which brought them all into this part of the country, and old Martin won't hear of the boy's taking to the sword. Yet I would stake my life that they are attacked before they get many miles farther, and then they will find that young Martin's stout back and strong arm are both shield and sword for them. I hope, sir, we shall have good news of you at the army; but you might as well have won a few gold pieces by the way of conducting three fat merchants safely. With what will you please to break your fast! It is not well to set out fasting, as they have done, and it's good twelve miles ere you get to Cavignac."