“I thank you, indeed, monsieur, for your kindness, and for promoting me so far beyond my merits, but I hope in the future I shall be able to still further prove my gratitude.”

“That is proved already,” Gassion said, “for although every man today has fought like a hero, you were the only one in camp that suspected that the Spanish might be lying in an ambush, and who not only thought it, but took means to find out whether it was so.”

The next morning Enghien informed Hector that he was elected as one of the three officers who were to have the honour of carrying his despatches to Paris, and that he was to start in half an hour.  Paolo, who was in the highest state of delight at the purse that had been presented to him the evening before, was greatly pleased with the prospect.

“Heaven be praised, master, that you are not going into another battle!  It was well nigh a miracle that you escaped last time, and such good luck does not befall a man twice.  I have never seen Paris, and greatly do I long to do so.  How they will shout when they hear the news we bring!”

“It will not be altogether news to them, Paolo.  La Moussaie, Enghien’s intimate friend, who acted as his aide-de-camp during the battle, was sent off ten minutes after the fight ended with a paper, on which the prince had pencilled that he had utterly defeated the enemy.  He will change horses at every post, and will be in Paris by this evening.  We bear the official despatches, giving a full account of the battle, and of the total destruction of the Spanish infantry, with no doubt a list of the nobles and gentlemen who have fallen.  Well, I should think now, Paolo, that when we have seen enough of Paris and we have journeyed down to Perpignan again, you will leave my service and buy a farm; you can afford a substantial one now.”

“What, master!  I leave your service, where gold comes in in showers, and where one serves a master whom one loves?  No, sir, I am not such a fool as that.  I do not say that when the war is over I may not settle down in a snug home among the mountains of Savoy, but not until then; besides, I am but eighteen, and a nice hand I should make at managing a farm.”

“Well, get the horses ready at once and the valises packed.  You can put them on my spare horse.  The mule will scarce keep up with us, for we shall certainly travel fast, so you had best hand it over to someone who you think will treat it kindly.”

Twenty minutes later Hector, and two officers who had distinguished themselves especially in the battle, sat mounted before the tent that had now been raised for d’Enghien.  The young prince himself came out.  “Gentlemen,” he said, handing the three sealed packets, “you will present these to the queen, who is now Regent of France, for Louis XIII died a week ago.  They contain the despatches and reports of myself and General Gassion.  Your packet, colonel,” he added to Hector, “is General Gassion’s report; it goes more fully into military details than mine.  You, Monsieur de Penthiere, carry my despatches in reference to the battle of yesterday.  You, Monsieur de Caussac, are the bearer of my plans for our future operations.  I think that you will all agree with me that, after the battle we have won, we shall be able to make ourselves masters of Flanders with but slight resistance.”