I thought it was a secret?"

"There is no such thing at a court. There is the dauphin, or the king's
brother, either of them, or any of their friends, would be right glad
that we should be in the Seine before we reach the archbishop's house
this night. But who is this?"

A burly figure had loomed up through the gloom on the path upon which
they were going. As it approached, a coloured lamp dangling from one of
the trees shone upon the blue and silver of an officer of the guards.
It was Major de Brissac, of De Catinat's own regiment.

"Hullo! Whither away?" he asked.

"To Paris, major."

"I go there myself within an hour. Will you not wait, that we may go
together?"

"I am sorry, but I ride on a matter of urgency. I must not lose a
minute."

"Very good. Good-night, and a pleasant ride."

"Is he a trusty man, our friend the major?" asked Amos Green, glancing
back.

"True as steel."

"Then I would have a word with him." The American hurried back along
the way they had come, while De Catinat stood chafing at this
unnecessary delay. It was a full five minutes before his companion
joined him, and the fiery blood of the French soldier was hot with
impatience and anger.

"I think that perhaps you had best ride into Paris at your leisure, my
friend," said he. "If I go upon the king's service I cannot be delayed
whenever the whim takes you."

"I am sorry," answered the other quietly. "I had something to say to
your major, and I thought that maybe I might not see him again."

"Well, here are the horses," said the guardsman as he pushed open the
postern-gate. "Have you fed an watered them, Jacques?"

"Yes, my captain," answered the man who stood at their head.

"Boot and saddle, then, friend Green, and we shall not draw rein again
until we see the lights of Paris in front of us."

The soldier-groom peered through the darkness after them with a sardonic
smile upon his face. "You won't draw rein, won't you?" he muttered as
he turned away. "Well, we shall see about that, my captain; we shall
see about that."

For a mile or more the comrades galloped along, neck to neck and knee to
knee. A wind had sprung up from the westward, and the heavens were
covered with heavy gray clouds, which drifted swiftly across, a crescent
moon peeping fitfully from time to time between the rifts. Even during
these moments of brightness the road, shadowed as it was by heavy trees,
was very dark, but when the light wa