FOR THE ADMIRAL W.J. MARX _Author of "Scouting for Buller," "The British Legion," etc._ HODDER AND STOUGHTON PUBLISHERS LONDON _Printed in 1906_ _Butler and Panner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London_ TO MY WIFE BUT FOR WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT THIS STORY WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN WRITTEN. CONTENTS CHAPTER I A PERILOUS RIDE CHAPTER II TRACKED, OR NOT? CHAPTER III THE FIGHT BY THE WAY CHAPTER IV HOW WE KEPT THE FORD CHAPTER V A TRAITOR TO THE KING CHAPTER VI THE UNKNOWN CAVALIER CHAPTER VII A COMMISSION FOR THE ADMIRAL CHAPTER VIII THE TRAGEDY OF JARNAC CHAPTER IX A GLORIOUS VICTORY CHAPTER X I REJOIN THE ADVANCE CHAPTER XI A DESPERATE CONFLICT CHAPTER XII THE RETURN TO ROCHELLE CHAPTER XIII A DARING ENTERPRISE CHAPTER XIV SCOUTING FOR COLIGNY CHAPTER XV A GLORIOUS TRIUMPH CHAPTER XVI A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE CHAPTER XVII THE KING'S PROMISE CHAPTER XVIII A WARNING FROM L'ESTANG CHAPTER XIX WHO KILLED THE COURIER? CHAPTER XX L'ESTANG'S COURIER CHAPTER XXI I SAVE CORDEL'S LIFE CHAPTER XXII L'ESTANG TELLS HIS STORY CHAPTER XXIII A ROYAL MARRIAGE CHAPTER XXIV A MYSTERIOUS WARNING CHAPTER XXV A DASTARDLY DEED CHAPTER XXVI WHAT WILL THE KING DO? CHAPTER XXVII THE DAY OF THE MASSACRE CHAPTER XXVIII FAREWELL FRANCE L'ENVOI CHAPTER I A Perilous Ride "I trust no harm has happened to my father, Jacques. The night grows late and there are strange rumours afloat. 'Tis said that the Guises are eager to break the peace." "Better open warfare than this state of things, monsieur. The peace is no peace: the king's troops are robbing and slaying as they please. François of the mill told me a pretty tale of their doings to-day. But listen, I hear the beat of hoofs on the road below." "There are two horses, Jacques, and they approach very slowly. My father does not usually ride like that." "No, faith!" said Jacques, with a laugh; "if his horse went at that pace the Sieur Le Blanc would get down and walk! But the travellers are coming here, nevertheless. Shall we go to the gate, monsieur?" "It may be as well," I answered. "One can never tell these days what mischief is brewing." By the peasantry for miles around my home was called the Castle of Le Blanc. It stood on the brow of a hill, overlooking a wide plain, and was defended by a dry moat and massive walls. A score of resolute men inside might easily have kept two hundred at bay, and more than once, indeed, the castle had stood a regular siege. According to Jacques it might have to do so again, for in that year, 1586, of which I write, France was in a terrible state. The nation was divided into two hostile parties--those who fiercely resisted any changes being made in the Church, and the Huguenots, those of the Religion--and the whole land was given over to brawling and disorder.