erable experience of wounds, set the broken limb,
while I, after sponging his face with warm water, applied some salve to
the gash. But he kept muttering to himself, "This is a whole night
wasted; I must set out at daybreak."

"We are going to get you into bed, and dress the wound in your side,"
said my father cheerily. "I hope that at daybreak you will be sleeping
soundly."

"The cut is a bagatelle, monsieur, and I must to the road again. A
murrain on those rascally bandits!"

"At least you will be none the worse for an hour's rest," said my
father, humouring his fancy. "Edmond, get off his boots, and do it
gently: we must keep this wound from bleeding afresh."

Between us we removed his clothes, and in spite of his protests got him
into bed, when my father bathed and bandaged his side, saying, "It looks
worse than it really is. Now, a cup of hot broth, and you should sleep
comfortably."

"The broth will be welcome, monsieur, but I have no time for sleep. An
hour lost here may plunge thousands of good Frenchmen into mourning."

I thought at first the pain had turned his brain; but he spoke sensibly
enough, and appeared deeply in earnest.

"Can we help you?" my father asked. "It will be a week yet before you
are able to sit in the saddle. Do you know me?"

"Yes," said the other, and his face brightened, "you are the Sieur Le
Blanc. I have seen you at Rochelle with the Admiral."

"Then you know I am to be trusted! Mind, I have no wish to pry into your
business; but perhaps we can be of service. Are you travelling far?"

"A week's ride," groaned the man; then, raising himself in bed, he said,
"Monsieur, I must go forward!"

"Pshaw, man, you talk nonsense! You haven't sufficient strength to carry
you across the room, and the wound in your side would start bleeding
before you reached the courtyard. Come, throw aside your fears; I make
no secret of my friendship for Gaspard de Coligny, and it is easy to
guess you have fought under his banner before now. But here is Jacques
with the broth! Drink this, and afterwards we will talk."

I raised him up while he drank, and presently he said, "Monsieur, if I
rested till midday I should be strong enough."

"A week at the least," my father replied, "and even then a score of
miles would overtax your strength."

After lying quietly for a few minutes, he whispered, "Monsieur, make the
door fast. Now, hand me my doublet. A murrain on the knaves who brought
me to this! A k