e higher, for every day since his arrival as
governor had showed him more and more clearly how great was the young
chief's influence. The tumult increased as Cavalier came nearer, and it
flashed through the marechal's mind that instead of giving hostages he
should have claimed them. At this moment Cavalier appeared at the gate,
and seeing the marechal's guard drawn up in line, he caused his own to
form a line opposite them. The memoirs of the time tell us that he was
dressed in a coffee-coloured coat, with a very full white muslin cravat;
he wore a cross-belt from which depended his sword, and on his head a
gold-laced hat of black felt. He was mounted on a magnificent bay horse,
the same which he had taken from M. de La Jonquiere on the bloody day of
Vergenne.

The lieutenant of the guard met him at the gate. Cavalier quickly
dismounted, and throwing the bridle of his horse to one of his men, he
entered the garden, and advanced towards the expectant group, which was
composed, as we have said, of Villars, Baville, and Sandricourt. As he
drew near, M. de Villars regarded him with growing astonishment; for he
could not believe that in the young man, or rather boy, before him
he saw the terrible Cevenol chief, whose name alone made the bravest
soldiers tremble. Cavalier at this period had just completed his
twenty-fourth year, but, thanks to his fair hair which fell in long
locks over his shoulders, and to the gentle expression of his eyes he
did not appear more than eighteen. Cavalier was acquainted with none of
the men in whose presence he stood, but he noticed M. de Villars' rich
dress and air of command. He therefore saluted him first; afterwards,
turning towards the others, he bowed to each, but less profoundly, then
somewhat embarrassed and with downcast eyes he stood motionless
and silent. The marechal still continued to look at him in silent
astonishment, turning from time to time to Baville and Sandricourt, as
if to assure himself that there was no mistake and that it was really
the man whom they expected who stood before them. At last, doubting
still, in spite of the signs they made to reassure him, he asked--

"Are you really Jean Cavalier?"

"Yes, monseigneur," was the reply, given in an unsteady voice.

"But I mean Jean Cavalier, the Camisard general, he who has assumed the
title of Duke of the Cevennes."

"I have not assumed that title, monseigneur, only some people call me
so in joke: the king alone has