“The Prince is included, monsieur.  ’Let us take off the heads of the two leaders,’ is what the Italian woman says, ’and there will be no more Huguenots.’  And the chiefs at Rochelle chose me to carry the warning.  ‘There is none braver or more prudent than Ambroise Devine,’ they said.  Monsieur, I would rather have lost my right hand!”

“Cheer up, man.  I warrant you have no cause for reproach.  Guise has his spies in Rochelle, and they would follow you on the chance of picking up some information.  When were you attacked?”

“At the close of the afternoon, monsieur, in the wood a few miles to the west.  They sprang out upon me suddenly—­there were three of them—­and I was taken unawares.  But it was a good fight,” and, in spite of his pain and distress of mind, his face lit up with a smile of satisfaction.  “There is one trooper the less in Guise’s ranks, and another who won’t earn his pay for months to come.”

“And best of all, the papers are safe,” my father observed.  “Now, what is to be done?  That is the important point.  The Admiral must have them without loss of time, and you cannot carry them to him.  My duties keep me here, but I could send Jacques——­”

“Jacques?” said the sick man questioningly.

“He is a trusty servant; I will vouch for his loyalty.”

Devine shook his head.  It was plain he did not welcome the proposal.

“Trust the papers to me,” I said, on a sudden impulse, “and I will take Jacques for company.”

“’Tis a long journey, Edmond, and full of danger,” said my father.  “I fear an older head than yours is needed.”

“Jacques can supply the older head, and I will take charge of the papers.”

“You are only a boy,” objected Devine.

“So much the better:  no one will suspect I am engaged on an errand of importance.”

“There is something in that, but this is no child’s game; ’tis an affair of life and death.  You must travel day and night, and from the moment the papers are in your hands your life belongs to the Admiral.  If you fail to reach Tanlay in time, the death of the noblest gentleman in France will lie on your shoulders.”

“I will do my best.”

“He is young,” remarked my father, “but he can bear fatigue.  He has a sure seat in the saddle, and he is more thoughtful than most boys of his age.  With Jacques at his elbow the venture is not as desperate as it may seem.”

Since nothing better offered, Devine at length agreed to the proposal, and having informed Jacques that we should start at dawn I went straight to bed, in the hope of getting a couple of hours’ sleep before beginning the journey.

The morning had scarcely broken when Jacques wakened me; I sprang up quickly, dressed—­my mother had sewn the precious papers securely inside my doublet—­and made a hearty meal.

My mother, who had risen in order to bid me farewell, was full of anxiety; but, like the brave woman she was, she put aside her fears; for the Admiral’s safety was at stake, and we of the Religion were well content to make any sacrifice for our beloved leader.  I embraced her fondly, assuring her I would be careful, and proceeded to the chamber where Ambroise Devine lay.  He had not slept, but was eagerly awaiting the time of my departure.