Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War by G. A. Henty (latest novels to read .txt) 📕

shall bear the name of the regiment of Poitou, and has appointed you to its command.”

This news gave much greater pleasure to Hector than did the gift of the fief, or the rank that accompanied it.

“Will you please give my earnest thanks to his excellency,” he said, “and assure him that he can depend upon my devotion.”

When Hector returned to the Hotel Conde he found that the soldiers who had started with him from Rocroi had all arrived, bringing with them the twelve horses that had been left on the road; four of these were to be handed over to each of the officers. The division was just being made as he entered the courtyard, each officer taking the four he had ridden by the way.

Paolo at once came up to him. “What are we to do with these horses, master?” he asked, with an air of bewilderment.

“We have now seven of them, counting mine, the one I led, and that you rode when you set out.”

“I must see where I can bestow them for the present until we think the matter over;” and going up to one of Conde's officers, he asked him if he could recommend a place where he might leave safely four horses for a time.

“The auberge of the Pome d'Or is but a street from here, monsieur; it has good stables, and the host is an honest man, which is not often the case with men of his class. When the stables here are full the prince often engages extra stalls there for the use of his guests. I will send four men with the horses at once, if such is your pleasure.”

“You will greatly oblige me by doing so,” Hector replied. Having seen the horses safely and comfortably lodged at the inn, Hector returned to the hotel with Paolo.

“You are not tired, I hope, Paolo?” he asked as they walked back.

“No, master; we have taken three days to do what you did in one, and have fatigued neither ourselves nor our beasts.”

“That is well, for I am going to start on a journey this afternoon, that is to say, if I can manage to make my arrangements.”

“May I ask where you are going, master?”

“You will be surprised to hear that I am going to visit my estates in Poitou.”

Paolo looked sharply up to see whether Hector was joking. Seeing that he looked serious, he said hesitatingly, “But I did not know, master, that you had estates in Poitou. I never heard you speak of them.”

“Because I had them not, Paolo. That box that you are carrying holds the titles. The fief was granted to me last night by the queen herself, the Duc d'Enghien and General Gassion having been good enough to make a good deal more of that night adventure of ours than it deserved. The estates carry a title with them, and I am now the Baron de la Villar.”

Paolo gave an exclamation of delight. “Well, master, I am glad indeed; but,” he went on in a changed tone, “now that you, monsieur, have become a noble, you will no longer require the services of a lad from Savoy.”

“Indeed I shall, Paolo, as long as you choose to remain with me. Why, have you not shared with me in the adventures, one of which made me a captain, and the other a colonel and a noble? Of course I shall have other servants, but you will always be my bodyservant and companion.”

“And are you going to leave the army, monsieur?” Paolo asked, after pouring out his thanks.

“No, I shall still remain in the army. Turenne will be in Paris soon, and will then go to the Rhine to take the command there, and I hope to go with my regiment.”

“Then you have a regiment, master?”

“Yes; one of the newly formed regiments has been named the regiment of Poitou, and I am to have the command. Of course, it may be sent either to him or to Enghien, but I hope that it will be to Turenne; and I should think so, because from what I hear there is scarcely any army left on the Rhine, and therefore it is probable that the new regiments will all be sent there, as Enghien's force is quite sufficient to cope with any enemy he is likely to meet with in Flanders. Now, I am going down to the barracks, and for the next two or three hours you can amuse yourself by taking a look at Paris.”

It was not to the barracks that Hector made his way, but to The Scottish Soldier.

“I did not expect to see you so soon again, colonel. Your man brought me word that I was not to come this morning, as you would be engaged,” the sergeant said when he entered.

“Yes, but our talk was only postponed, sergeant; now I want you to aid me in a matter that I have on hand.”

“What sort of matter is it?”

“I want to find four good men to take into my service. The queen has granted me an estate, as if a colonelcy was not an ample and more than ample reward for discovering that ambuscade. It is the fief of la Villar in Poitou, and the most absurd point of the thing is that with it is a title, and I am now Colonel Campbell, Baron de la Villar.”

“Well, well,” the sergeant exclaimed; “you will be coming and telling me next that you are going to marry a princess of the blood. Did one ever hear of such things! However, Hector, lad, I congratulate you with all my heart, and I am as glad as if it had been a bairn of my own that had had your good fortune. Now, in what can I help you about the four men? What sort of men do you want?”

“I want four good men and true, sergeant, men that I can rely upon. I shall want them to ride with me in the field as orderlies, for I have been appointed to the command of an infantry regiment. Of course, I should like young and active men, but that they should be steady and accustomed to arms is still more important.”

“I know but few men outside the regiment,” the sergeant said. “The laddies like to have the place to themselves, and I don't encourage others about; but if you can do with good men who have somewhat passed their prime, but are still capable of service and handy with their arms, I know just the men that will suit you. We had a little bit of trouble in the regiment a week since; four of the men—Allan Macpherson, Jock Hunter, Donald Nicholl, and Sandy Grahame—came in after tattoo, and all a bit fu'. It was not here they got it, though; I know better than to supply men with liquor when it is time for them to be off to the barracks. Captain Muir, who is the only dour carl in the regiment, happened to be on duty, and he spoke a good deal more hardly to them than to my mind there was any occasion, seeing that they are good soldiers and not in the guardroom more often than others. They answered