“I met your faithful Mike at the gate of the hospital.  I was glad, indeed, to see that he had come out unharmed from that terrible fight.  When I told him I had come to take you away, he almost cried with joy.”

“It will be the saving of him,” he said.  “He has been going down the hill for the last fortnight, and it is change and good nursing he wants.”

“He will get good nursing, I warrant,” I said, “and the soft air of the south will soon set him up.”

“It is wonderfully kind of you, Philip; but I am sure I am not strong enough to ride.”

“No one is thinking of your riding, at present, Desmond.  I have brought down a horse litter with me, and four of my men, with the quietest horses on the estate, and all you have to do is to lie down in it, and talk with me whenever you are disposed.  You have a whole batch of adventures to tell me.”

“I feel better already, Philip.  I own that I have been downhearted of late, for it seemed to me that I should be an invalid for months, and be living in Paris without a friend except Mike, for all the regiments of the Brigade are either with Vendome or in Spain.  The sight of your face, and the thought of your kindness, so cheers me that I feel capable of anything.”

“Well, we will start tomorrow morning, Desmond.  I shall go at once and see the director of the hospital, and get an order for your discharge.”

The next morning they set out.  Desmond had to be assisted downstairs.  There he was laid on a litter, packed with soft rugs.  This was raised and placed between two horses, ridden by two of de la Vallee’s men.  De la Vallee himself took his place by the side of the litter, Mike rode on ahead leading Desmond’s charger, and the other two servants fell to the rear, in readiness to change with those bearing the litter, when half the day’s journey was done.

Seeing that the exertion of being moved had exhausted his friend, de la Vallee rode for some time in silence.  Then, when Desmond opened his eyes and smiled at him, he said: 

“I hope you are feeling comfortable?”

“Perfectly.  I hardly feel any motion.”

Every care had been taken to prevent jolting.  The poles of the litter were unusually long, thus adding to their elasticity.  The ends passed through leathern loops suspended from the saddle; and were, at this point, covered with a thick wrapping of flannel bandages, which aided in minimizing the effect of any jar.  The first day’s journey was performed at a walking pace, and they reached Beauvais, twenty-five miles being accomplished.

The fresh air and the slight easy motion were beneficial, and in the afternoon, Desmond was able to talk cheerfully with his friend.  There was, however, no continued conversation, Philip saying he would ask no questions about Desmond’s doings until he was stronger.  His story had better be told while sitting quietly in a room, where it would not be necessary, as it was on the road, for the voice to be raised.