his side felt as one treading on air, so
infinite was the burden taken off his mind. Though for the present
absolutely at sea as to where to seek Eustacie, the relief from
acquiescence in the horrible fate that had seemed to be hers was such,
that a flood of unspeakable happiness seemed to rush in on him, and bear
him up with a new infusion of life, buoyancy, and thankfulness.

CHAPTER XXIX. IN THE KING'S NAME

'Under which king, Bezonian? speak or die.

'Under King Harry.
--KING HENRY IV.

'One bird in the hand is not always worth two in the bush, assuredly,'
said Philip, when Berenger was calm enough to hold council on what he
called this most blessed discovery; 'but where to seek them?

'I have no fears now,' returned Berenger. 'We have not been bore through
so much not to be brought together at last. Soon, soon shall we have
her! A minister so distinguished as Isaac Gardon is sure to be heard
of either at La Rochelle, Montauban, or Nimes, their great gathering
places.

'For Rochelle, then?' said Philip.

'Even so. We will be off early to-morrow, and from thence, if we do
not find her there, as I expected, we shall be able to write the thrice
happy news to those at home.

Accordingly, the little cavalcade started in good time, in the cool
of the morning of the bright long day of early June, while apple petal
floated down on them in the lanes like snow, and nightingales in every
hedge seemed to give voice and tune to Berenger's eager, yearning hopes.

Suddenly there was a sound of horse's feet in the road before them, and
as they drew aside to make way, a little troop of gendarmes filled the
narrow lane. The officer, a rough, harsh-looking man, laid his hand on
Berenger's bridle, with the words, 'In the name of the King!

Philip began to draw his sword with one hand, and with the other to urge
his horse between the officer and his brother, but Berenger called out,
'Back! This gentleman mistakes my person. I am the Baron de Ribaumont,
and have a safe-conduct from the King.

'What king?' demanded the officer.

'From King Charles.

'I arrest you,' said the officer, 'in the name of King Henry III, and of
the Queen Regent Catherine.

'The King dead?' Exclaimed Berenger.

'On the 30th of May. Now, sir.

'Your warrant--your cause?' still demanded Berenger.

'There will be time enough for that when you are safely lodged, said the
captain, roughly pulling at the rein,