and the
Spaniards."

"Will Monseigneur try to capture Rochelle?" asked Jeanne.

"It is very likely, but he will not succeed; Rochelle can never be taken
by an enemy."

I stayed very late with them that night, for there were many things to
talk about, and they were so glad to see me that even at the end I was
loth to depart.

The next day my comrades, who purposely stayed away on the previous
evening, accompanied me home, and were made much of by my mother and
Jeanne.

These occasional visits were like oases in a dreary desert. We tried to
banish all thoughts of the war, and to talk as cheerfully as if there
were no misery in the land. But for Felix and me these days of happy
idleness speedily came to an end. There was much to be done, and Coligny
needed our services. Instead of being cast down by his reverse at
Montcontour, our leader was already planning a gigantic scheme which
should help to repair our broken fortunes.

Meanwhile the garrison at St. Jean d'Angely was offering a splendid
resistance to the enemy. Anjou was pressing the siege with vigour, King
Charles himself was in the trenches--I never held, as some of my
comrades did, that the king was a coward--but the handful of troops
defied the royal brothers and all their force.

One morning as our chief came from his chamber, the ante-room being
filled with his gentlemen and the leaders of the army, he stopped and
laid his hand with a kindly touch on my shoulder.

"My young friend," he said, "we are all proud of your father. The
reports from St. Jean d'Angely declare that he is the very heart of the
defence."

"I thank you, my lord, for your kind words," I stammered, blushing
crimson with pride, for to hear my father thus honoured was far sweeter
than any praise of myself could have been.

And a day or two later Rochelle was ringing with his name. Men lauded
his courage and prowess, speaking of him almost as if he were our
beloved leader himself.

Heading a body of troops in the early morning, he had sallied forth,
destroyed a big gun, and driven the besiegers pell-mell from the
trenches. Anjou had scowled angrily, but King Charles was reported to
have declared it a most brilliant feat of arms.

It was a proud day for all of us, but our joy was shortly changed to
mourning. Coligny, with most of his attendants, had left Rochelle for
Saintes; the rest of us, with two hundred troopers, were to depart the
next day. I had spent the evening at home, a