ind that chariot. Wait a little while for your
good star to rise. I wish I had money. I wish I could be of use to you
in France. I wish I stood nearer to Monsieur, for your sake. Every one
must love this bold pure face. It bears some resemblance to Madame
Royal. The sister of the dauphin is a good girl, not many years your
senior. Much dominated by her uncles, but a royal duchess. It is the
fashion now to laugh at chivalry. You are the most foolish example of it
I ever saw! It is like seeing a knight without horse, armor, or purse,
set out to win an equipment before he pursues his quest! Yet I love you
for it, my boy!"

"It would be well for me if I had more friends like you."

"Why, I can be of no use! I cannot go back to France at this time, and
if I could, what is my influence there? I must wander around in foreign
parts, a private gentleman eking out my living by some kind of industry.
What are you going to do with the fretful old fellow you have with you?"

I groaned and laughed.

"Carry him on my back. There is no getting rid of him. He is following
me to France. He is my lesson-master."

"How will you support him?"

"He is supporting me at present. But I would rather take my chances
alone."

"You have another follower," said Louis Philippe. "Your Indian has been
in France, and after hearing our talk at the camp, he foresaw you might
be moved to this folly, and told me he intended to guide you there, or
wherever you go!"

"And Skenedonk, too!"

I shook with laughter. It was so like Skenedonk to draw his conclusions
and determine on the next step.

"What shall I do with them?"

"The old master can be your secretary, and as for the Indian, you can
take him for your servant."

"A secretary and a servant, for an outcast without a penny to his
pouch!"

"You see the powers that order us are beginning well with you. Starting
with a secretary and a servant, you may end with a full household and a
court! I ought to add my poor item of tribute, and this I can do. There
is a ship-master taking cargo this month in New York bay, who is a
devoted royalist; a Breton sailor. For a letter from me he will carry
you and your suite to the other side of the world; but you will have to
land in his port."

"And what will the charges be?"

"Nothing, except gratitude, if I put the case as strongly to him as I
intend to do. God knows I may be casting a foul lot for you. His ship is
staunch, rigged like the Italian salt