The evening before leaving La Rochelle I went to take farewell of my sister.  “If Roger Braund should return during our absence,” I said, “you can tell him we have gone to Blois and perhaps to Paris.  What is it, sweetheart?” for at this, a wave of colour spread over her fair face.

“’Tis nothing, brother,” said she, gazing earnestly at the ground, “only this very morning the master of an English ship brought me a note from him.”

“A note for you!  ’Tis strange he did not write to me!”

“He speaks of you in his letter, and hopes you are well.  There is some trouble at Court” he says, “and he cannot obtain his queen’s permission to leave the country.”

“Then we have seen the last of him.  I am sorry.”

“He thinks he may be able to come in a few months,” she continued, but, strangely enough, she did not show me his letter, nor did she mention the subject to Felix, who presently joined us.

The next morning, to the visible anxiety of our friends, we rode out from the city, fifty strong, with the Admiral at our head.  We journeyed pleasantly and at our leisure to Blois, where the king accorded our chief a most gracious and kindly reception.  If he really meditated treachery, he was a most accomplished actor.

His gentlemen entertained us with lavish hospitality, and, though there were occasionally sharp differences of opinion, we got on very well together.  When the king treated our leader so affectionately, calling him “Father,” and placing his arm round his neck, the members of the royal household could not afford to be churlish.

One morning I chanced to be in attendance on the Admiral when he and the king were taking a turn in the grounds.  Felix and two or three of the king’s gentlemen were with me, and we were all chatting pleasantly together when my patron, turning round, beckoned me to approach.

“This is the young man, sire,” he said; “he comes from a good family, and I have proved him to be a trusty servant.”

“My dear Admiral,” cried Charles, “a word from you is sufficient recommendation.  But there are forms to be observed, and you would not have me override the Parliament!  Eh, my dear Admiral, you would not have me do that,” and he laughed roguishly.

“I would have you do nothing unjustly, sire, but I would have you set the wrong right, and this is a foul wrong.  The Sieur Le Blanc did nothing more than any other Huguenot gentleman.  Why was he outlawed, and a price set on his head, and his property confiscated?”

“Upon my word,” exclaimed Charles, looking very foolish, “I do not know!”

“You were pleased at St. Jean d’Angely to call him a very gallant gentleman.”

“At D’Angely?” echoed the king.  “Are you speaking of the man who set us so long at defiance?  My brother was not well pleased with him.”

“Your brother, sire, does not rule France.”

“No, by St. James!” cried Charles, with sudden fury, “and while I live he never shall!  I am the king, and what I wish shall be done.  This Le Blanc who fought at D’Angely was as brave a soldier as ever drew sword.  Had he been on our side, I would have made him a marshal.  I swear it!”