Part 23 (1/2)
”We're charged to guard him with our lives, and not leave him till he comes to the Amba.s.sador's house.”
”But these rogues hunt sometimes in threes and fours,” said I. ”You might well lose one of your number.”
”We're cheap, sir,” laughed one. ”The King of France has many of us.”
”But if your master were the one?”
”Even then provision is made.”
”What? Could you carry his message--for if his treasure isn't money, I must set it down as tidings--to the Amba.s.sador.”
They looked at one another rather doubtfully. But I was not behindhand in filling their gla.s.ses.
”Still we should go on, even without _Monsieur_,” said one.
”But to what end?” I cried in feigned derision.
”Why, we too have a message.”
”Indeed. Can you carry the King's message?”
”None better, sir,” said the shorter of the pair, with a shrewd twinkle in his eye. ”For we don't understand it.”
”Is it difficult then?”
”Nay, it's so simple as to see without meaning.”
”What, so simple--but your bottle is empty! Come, another?”
”Indeed no, _Monsieur_.”
”A last bottle between us! I'll not be denied.” And I called for a fourth.
When we were well started on the drinking of it, I asked carelessly,
”And what's your message?”
But neither the wine nor the negligence of my question had quite lulled their caution to sleep. They shook their heads, and laughed, saying,
”We're forbidden to tell that.”
”Yet, if it be so simple as to have no meaning, what harm in telling it?”
”But orders are orders, and we're soldiers,” answered the shrewd short fellow.
The idea had been working in my brain, growing stronger and stronger till it reached conviction. I determined now to put it to the proof.
”Tut,” said I. ”You make a pretty secret of it, and I don't blame you.
But I can guess your riddle. Listen. If anything befell M. de Fontelles, which G.o.d forbid----”