With one of them—­Roger Braund, a lad about the same age as Felix—­we soon became very friendly.  He was fair and handsome, with sparkling blue eyes and shapely features.  He was tall and well made, a skilful horseman, and an astonishing master of fence.  Few of us could equal him with the sword, but he was modest and unassuming, and had a genial manner, very captivating.

He was a frequent visitor at my aunt’s house, where he speedily became as great a favourite as Felix.  Indeed, I sometimes thought that Jeanne regarded him with even more favour.  She spent much time in his company, listening to his accounts of the English Court and of his own home, which was situated in a district called Devonshire.  I think Felix was not too well pleased with this intimacy, but whatever sorrow it caused him he kept locked up in his own breast.

One evening, they started together to the house, expecting me to follow as soon as I was relieved of my duty.  It was, I remember, about a half after six, when I left the hotel.  The streets as usual were thronged with citizens and soldiers, who in some places almost blocked the road.  In front of me was a horseman, to all appearance but newly arrived.  He was proceeding at a foot pace, and evidently looking for suitable accommodation.

“A fine beast!” I thought, glancing at the animal, and then—­“Surely I have seen that horse before!”

The knowledge did not come to me at once, but by degrees I remembered the early morning ride through the sleeping village of Le Blanc, and the richly-dressed cavalier with whom we had travelled some distance.  I quickened my steps, and scanned the rider closely.  I could not see his face well, but there could be no mistaking the alert, soldierly figure, and the short, brown curls escaping over the forehead.

“Faith, my friend,” I said to myself, “the tables are turned now!  One word from me, and you would be torn in pieces; but you must be a brave rascal to venture alone into Rochelle!  If Anjou has many spies as fearless as you, he must be well served.”

I walked close behind him, wondering what was best to be done.  He was certainly a spy, who had entered the city for the purpose of searching out our strength and weakness.  Perhaps it would be best to call a patrol, and have him arrested on the spot.  I was still considering this, when he turned up a side street and dismounted before the door of an inn.  An ostler led his horse to the stables, and he entered the house.

Now the fellow was so completely in my power that I had the mind to watch him a little further.  Several persons were in the room, but he had taken his place at an unoccupied table in the corner, and called for the host.

“Some food and a little wine,” he said, “but serve me quickly; I have important business on hand.”

“Monsieur has travelled?” said the landlord, with a glance at his boots.

“Yes,” he answered, “and one feels safer inside Rochelle than beyond its walls, let me tell you!”