Hector would much rather have remained to be cured in Italy, but he did not think of raising the slightest objection to Turenne’s plans for him, and the next day he started for Sedan, taking, of course, Paolo with him.  The convoy traveled by easy stages over the passes into France, and then, escorted by a sergeant and eight troopers, Hector was carried north to Sedan.  Though still very weak, he was able to alight at the entrance of the duke’s residence, and sent in Turenne’s letters to him and the duchess.  Three minutes later the duke himself came down.

“Captain Campbell,” he said heartily, “my brother has done well in sending you here to be taken care of and nursed.  In his letters to me he has spoken of you more than once, especially with reference to the manner in which you carried a message for him to the citadel of Turin.  I shall be glad to do anything that I can for so brave a young officer, but I fear that for the present you will have to be under the charge of the duchess rather than mine.”

The duke was a tall, handsome man with a frank and open face, a merry laugh, and a ready jest.  He was extremely popular, not only in his own dominions, but among the Parisians.  His fault was that he was led too easily.  Himself the soul of honour, he believed others to be equally honourable, and so suffered himself to become mixed up in plots and conspiracies, and to be drawn on into an enterprise wholly foreign to his nature.

“I will take you at once to the duchess, but I see that you are quite unfit to walk.  Sit down, I beg you, until I get a chair for you.”

Three or four minutes later four lackeys came with a carrying chair, and Hector was taken upstairs to the duchess’s apartments.

“This is the gentleman of whom Turenne has written to me, and doubtless, as I see by that letter upon the table, to you also.  He has been a good deal damaged, having been ridden over by a squadron of Prince Thomas’s horsemen, and needs quiet and rest.”

“Turenne has told me all about it,” the duchess said.  “I welcome you very heartily, monsieur.  My brother says that he has great affection for you, and believes you will some day become a master in the art of war.  He says you have rendered him most valuable services, which is strange indeed, seeing that you are as yet very young.”

“I was sixteen the other day, madam.”

“Only sixteen, and already a captain!” she exclaimed.

“I was made a captain nine months ago,” he said, “for a little service that I performed to his satisfaction.”

“Turenne would not have promoted you unless it had been an important service, I am sure,” she said with a smile.  “He does great things himself, and expects great things from others.”

“It was the affair of carrying the message to the garrison of the citadel of Turin urging them to hold out, as he would come to their relief soon,” the duke said.  “Do you not remember that he wrote us an account of it?”