“You are indeed generous, my lord; but there is another objection,” I stammered out awkwardly.

“What is that?” he asked

“My duty to yourself, my lord.  It is not the part of a gentleman of France to leave his chief in danger.”

“But I am not in danger, my boy!  France is at peace; the king is my friend; we have blotted out the past.  Still, should the time come when I have need of a trusty sword, I shall not fail to send for Edmond Le Blanc.  I leave Blois in two or three days, but before then I will send my chaplain to you.  Keep a stout heart; the king is anxious to stand well with Prince Henry, who will not forget to press your claims.”

I took my leave of him with heart-felt gratitude, and sought my comrade, whose face clouded as he listened to my story.

“’Tis good advice, Edmond,” he exclaimed dolefully, “and it is selfish in me to feel sorry; but it puts an end to our comradeship.”

“Say, rather, it breaks it for a time,” I suggested.  “As soon as the affair is settled I shall come back.”

“Will you?” he cried delightedly; “then I hope the king will sign the papers directly he reaches Paris.  I shall be miserable until your return.”

“The pleasures of the capital will help to keep up your spirits,” I laughed.  “It will be a novelty to see our friends attending the royal banquets and receptions.  Monseigneur and the Guises will be charmed with your society.”

“It is a big risk,” he remarked thoughtfully.  “I wonder how it will all end?” and I hardly liked to answer the question even to myself.

The next day the chaplain brought me a purse of money, with a kindly message from the chief, who had gone to attend the king, and I told Jacques to prepare for setting out early in the morning.

“Are we going to Paris?” he asked, and I laughed at the amazed expression of his face on hearing that we were about to return home.

“’Tis a long story,” I said, “but there will be ample time to tell it on the journey.”

I wished my comrades farewell, and early in the morning took my departure from Blois, Felix riding a short distance with me.

“I would we were travelling the whole journey together,” he said; “but as that is out of the question I shall pray for your speedy return.  Good-bye, Edmond, till we meet again.”

“And may that be soon!” I exclaimed warmly.

CHAPTER XVIII

A Warning from L’Estang

The hour being late when we reached Le Blanc, Jacques proposed that we should put up at the inn.  Old Pierre came bustling out with a hearty welcome; the horses were stabled, a room was prepared, and by the time we had removed the traces of our journey Pierre brought in a substantial and appetising supper.

“Why, Pierre,” I exclaimed laughing, “you must have laid your larder bare!”

“All the larders in the village would be laid bare for monsieur’s use,” replied the old man, and I believed him.