“M. de Mayenne! ventre de biche, I thought so,” said he.

The duke did not reply; he had fainted from the loss of blood and the weight of his fall.  Chicot drew his dagger, and was about coolly to cut off his head, when his arm was seized by a grasp of iron, and a voice said: 

“Stay! monsieur; one does not kill a fallen enemy.”

“Young man,” replied Chicot, “you have saved my life, and I thank you with all my heart; but accept a little lesson very useful in the time of moral degradation in which we live.  When a man has been attacked three times in three days—­when he has been each time in danger of death—­when his enemies have, without provocation, fired four musket balls at him from behind—­as they might have done to a mad dog—­then, young man, he may do what I am about to do.”  And Chicot returned to his work.

But the young man stopped him again.

“You shall not do it, while I am here.  You shall not shed more of that blood which is now issuing from the wound you hare already inflicted.”

“Bah! do you know this wretch?”

“That wretch is M. le Duc de Mayenne, a prince equal in rank to many kings.”

“All the more reason.  And who are you?”

“He who has saved your life, monsieur.”

“And who, if I do not deceive myself, brought me a letter from the king three days ago.”

“Precisely.”

“Then you are in the king’s service?”

“I have that honor.”

“And yet you save M. de Mayenne?  Permit me to tell you, monsieur, that that is not being a good servant.”

“I think differently.”

“Well, perhaps you are right.  What is your name?”

“Ernanton de Carmainges.”

“Well, M. Ernanton, what are we to do with this great carcase?”

“I will watch over M. de Mayenne, monsieur.”

“And his follower, who is listening there?”

“The poor devil hears nothing; I have bound him too tightly, and he has fainted.”

“M. de Carmainges, you have saved my life to-day, but you endanger it furiously for the future.”

“I do my duty to-day; God will provide for the future.”

“As you please, then, and I confess I dislike killing a defenseless man.  Adieu, monsieur.  But first, I will choose one of these horses.”

“Take mine; I know what it can do.”

“Oh! that is too generous.”

“I have not so much need as you have to go quickly.”

Chicot made no more compliments, but got on Ernanton’s horse and disappeared.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Ernanton de Carmainges.

Ernanton remained on the field of battle, much embarrassed what to do with the two men, who would shortly open their eyes.  As he deliberated, he saw a wagon coming along, drawn by two oxen, and driven by a peasant.  Ernanton went to the man and told him that a combat had taken place between the Huguenots and Catholics, that four had been killed, but that two were still living.  The peasant, although desperately frightened, aided Ernanton to place first M. de Mayenne and then the soldier in the wagon.  The four bodies remained.