Only young Aime went with bowed head and drooping look, as though pouting, and Berenger, putting Osbert’s bridle into Humfrey’s hand, stepped up to him, saying, ’Hark you, M. de Selinville, I am sorry if we seemed to neglect you.  We owe you and your lady all gratitude, but I must be the judge of my own duty, and you can only be with me if you conform.’

The young seemed to be devouring his tears, but only said, ’I was vexed to see my lady’s plan marred, and your chance thrown away.’

‘Of that I must judge,’ said Berenger.

They were in a by-lane, perfectly solitary.  The whole country was at the funeral.  Through the frosty air there came an occasional hum or murmur from Berenger, or the tinkle of a cow-bell in the fields, but no human being was visible.  It was certain, however, that the Rotrous, being Huguenots, and no vassals of Nid-de-Merle, would not be at the obsequies; and Berenger, walking with swift strides, supporting Osbert on his horse, continued to cheer him with promises of rest and relief there, and listened to no entreaties from Philip or Humfrey to take one of their horses.  Had not Osbert borne him on his shoulders through the butchery at Paris, and endured three years of dungeon for his sake?

As for Philip, the slow pace of their ride was all insufficient for his glee.  He made his horse caracole at every level space, till Berenger reminded him that they might have far to ride that night, and even then he was constantly breaking into attempts at shouting and whistling as often repressed, and springing up in his stirrups to look over the high hedges.

The Grange was so well concealed in its wooded ravine, that only when close upon the gate the party became aware that this farm-yard, usually so solitary, formed an exception to the general desertion of the country.  There was a jingle and a stamp of horses in the court, which could hardly be daylight echoes of the Templars.  Berenger feared that the Guisards might have descended Rotrou, and was stepping forward to reconnoiter, while young De Selinville, trembling, besought him not to run into danger, but to turn and hasten to La Rochelle.  By this time, however, the party had been espied by two soldiers stationed at the gate, but not before Berenger had had time to remark that they did not wear either the gold fleur-de-lys like his late guards, or the white cross of Lorraine; nor had they the strange air of gay ferocity usual with the King’s mercenaries.  And almost by instincts, at a venture, he made the old Huguenot sign he had learnt form his father, and answered, ‘For God and the Religion.’

The countersign was returned.  ’Bearn and Bourbon is the word to-day, comrade,’ replied the sentinel. ’Eh quoi! have you had an encounter, that you bring a wounded man?’