"This morning, monsieur."

As there was no need to take Pillot with me, I ordered him to remain at the inn until my return, which would probably be the next day.

"Very well, monsieur," said he pleasantly.

As soon as my horse was sufficiently rested I resumed my journey, telling Pillot he might expect me at any hour of the day or night. I was sorry Raoul had left Gien, though pleased at the prospect of seeing him at Etampes, and, but for the strangeness attending our meeting, I should have entirely pa.s.sed over the episode of this otherwise uneventful ride.

Marshal Turenne was inspecting the position of a battery when I found him, but he instantly opened and read the Cardinal's note.

"Hum!" said he, knitting his brows, "this is a serious matter, and requires thought. You will remain in the camp until I am ready to furnish his Eminence with an answer. You have friends among my gentlemen?"

"M. Beauchamp is my chief friend, general."

"Ah! I remember you now. I saw you at Blenau and again at Gien.

Well, you cannot do better than spend an hour or two with M.

Beauchamp," and he directed one of his attendants to conduct me to Raoul's tent.

"Albert!" exclaimed my comrade, jumping up in surprise. "How came you here? Ah! I forgot! You are on the Cardinal's business?"

"Yes, but I met Pillot at Limours, and he told me you had rejoined your squadron. I hope you did not leave Gien too soon?"

"No, I am quite strong again, and I could not lie there doing nothing."

Now, I do not pretend to explain his behaviour at that time, or the mystery which followed; my readers must judge for themselves after I have stated the facts. That something had altered my old comrade very much was plain. He had lost his high spirits, and replied to my sallies with only a half-hearted smile. When I rallied him on this gloomy fit he dismissed the subject hastily, leading me to talk of John Humphreys and what the Court was doing at St. Germain.

I had been with him an hour or a little more when an officer brought word that Marshal Turenne desired to see M. Beauchamp immediately.

"Stay where you are, Albert, and make yourself comfortable," he exclaimed. "It is an order for some piece of special service perhaps; the Marshal is always planning a fresh surprise."

Left alone, I began wondering more than ever at the remarkable change which had come over him. He was as keen as ever to perform his duties, but the quick, bright smile, the joyous laugh, the old boyish merriment had vanished.

"He is weak from his wounds," I thought; "he should have stayed longer at Gien, and let Pillot nurse him. Perhaps he will throw off this gloomy air as he gets stronger."

At the end of half-an-hour he returned, and I concluded by his manner that the Marshal had entrusted him with some important business.

"Another expedition," I said, springing up. "Take care, Raoul, the pitcher may go to the well once too often."

"It matters little, dear friend, but at present there is no need for alarm. Do you know what was in that packet from the Cardinal? Conde has won over the Duke of Lorraine, who is marching on Paris with a large army. Turenne intends to break up his camp and attack the Duke."

"That will be awkward; we shall be placed between two fires."

"Trust to Turenne; he understands his business. A few troops will stay here for a day or two. Meanwhile, we march light; we shall strike our blow at Lorraine, and then the rest of our army will rejoin us."

"Leaving Conde's troops to slip out of Etampes!"

"So much the better; they will be compelled to fight in the open."

"Are you riding with the Marshal?"

"In front of him. He has selected my squadron to scour the country in advance. It will be a change from camp life. Now, I must go; we shall meet again soon."

"I hope so!"

"It is certain," he answered calmly, "the stars have foretold it."

I looked at him in surprise, and said, "You were not used to put your faith in the stars, Raoul!"

"No," he answered, dreamily, "but I have learned much of late. Do you remember the open s.p.a.ce before the Porte St. Antoine? It is there we shall meet. I hear the roar of cannon, the rattle of muskets, the hoof-beats of horses, the fierce shouts of struggling men. I see---- Ah well, dear friend, it is not long to wait!"

I tried to detain him, to make him speak more plainly, but he would say nothing further, and, leaving the tent, we walked in silence to the lines farthest from Etampes. Raoul's hors.e.m.e.n were already there, and presently Turenne himself, attended by two officers, rode up. In a few stirring words he addressed the troopers, bidding them justify his choice, and speaking in high terms of their young leader. Then he gave Raoul his final instructions, and my friend pressed my hand in a last grasp.

"_Au revoir!_" said he quietly. "Remember the Porte St. Antoine!"

I stood for a while watching the weird scene as the troopers filed off silently, and in perfect order. Raoul, who had placed himself at their head, was soon out of sight, but I could not banish his strange words from my mind.

"Remember the Porte St. Antoine!" What did he mean? Why had he mentioned that particular spot as the scene of our meeting? What was the strange vision at which he had hinted? Alas! I understood later, but even to this day the manner of his foreknowledge remains a mystery.

"Is that M. de Lalande?"

Starting from my dream, I found it was Marshal Turenne who addressed me, and saluting, I answered his question.

"Come to me at daybreak," he said; "I wish to send a letter by you to Cardinal Mazarin," and he galloped off, the two officers following.

Returning to Raoul's tent--for the troopers had left every thing standing--I lay down, and tried, though unsuccessfully, to sleep. My comrade's mysterious speech haunted me; I could make nothing of it, and it was with a feeling of relief that I saw the day open. Having groomed and fed my horse, I went to the Marshal's tent. The famous soldier had the note written, but he made me stay while his servant prepared a simple breakfast, to which we both sat down. Then, sending a man for my horse, he wished me a safe journey, and I rode from the camp as the troops began to stir.

Pillot was waiting for me at Etampes, and I questioned him closely concerning Raoul.

"It is true that M. Beauchamp has changed much," said he; "I noticed it at Gien."

"Was there any reason for it?"

"Ah, monsieur, it is hard to tell. For a week after you left Gien, M.

Beauchamp was bright and cheerful as usual, and planning great things for you and himself. Then, one evening, on going to his room, I found him lying down, fully dressed. He seemed to be asleep."

"Seemed to be?" I interrupted crossly, "could you not make sure?"

"He did not hear me, monsieur, and he did not answer when I spoke, but his eyes were open and bright. Presently, as I stood in a corner of the room, he began talking as if to some person. Then suddenly he sprang up, his face was white, and his eyes stared as if they had seen something dreadful, and he trembled all over. I called his name, and he glanced round in a frightened way as if surprised to find himself in a room."

"Did he make any remark?"

"He said he had been dreaming, and made me take him into the street to clear the cobwebs from his brain. I think the same dream came again afterwards, but he would not speak of it, though once I heard him mutter to himself, 'It was the Porte St. Antoine!'"

"The Porte St. Antoine?" I cried, more astonished than ever; "that is where he declared I should meet him next!"

"There are many strange things for which we cannot account, monsieur!"

exclaimed Pillot--a remark which, though true enough, gave me small comfort.

The little man did his best to cheer me, but it was a dreary ride notwithstanding, and he must have been glad when towards evening we reached St. Germain. Having given Mazarin the Marshal's note, and finding the time at my own disposal, I went to seek Humphreys.