"Get along; if you were not what you are, I would put my pike into you," replied the soldier; and went on with some observations upon his companion's conduct, not very complimentary, the whole of which the Abbé de Boisguerin did not hear. As he advanced into the town, however, his keen eye remarked many more signs and symptoms of the same kind, from all of which he drew his own deductions; and on entering the castle, which was then inhabited by the Duke of Epernon, he dismounted in the court of the guardhouse, as it was called, where there were a considerable number of the Duke's soldiery loitering about. Though it was not the usual place for visitors to dismount, they suffered him to attach his horse to one of the large iron hooks in the wall, and in a few minutes after he was in the presence of the Duke of Epernon. Not a trace of humiliation or abasement was to be seen in the Duke's countenance or demeanour. He was as proud, as fierce, as fiery as ever; and although he received the Abbé, having seen him more than once in Paris during the late events, and entertaining that degree of consideration for him which a keen and powerful mind almost always commands, he nevertheless seemed to doubt whether he should ask him even to sit down, and did it at length with an air of condescension. "Well, Monsieur de Boisguerin," he said at length, "to what do I owe this visit?" "I come, my Lord," replied the Abbé without a moment's hesitation, "to offer your Lordship my poor services." The Duke smiled. "They are of course," he said, "welcome. Monsieur de Boisguerin. But the time of offering them is somewhat singular, when all men think my fortunes on the decline, or, perhaps, I should say, utterly down." "Such it may seem to them, my Lord," replied the Abbé; "but such it seems not to me. There are sciences, my Lord, which teach us what the future is destined to produce; and I own that I am quite selfish in my present act, seeking to attach myself to one who is yet destined to uphold the throne of France, to affect the fortunes of the times, to triumph over all his enemies, and to outlive most of them now living." "Indeed!" said the Duke thoughtfully; "and am I to believe this prophecy seriously?" "Most seriously, my Lord," replied the Abbé. "I myself believe it and know it, as I believe and know the great fortunes that are likely to attend myself--otherwise, perhaps, you might not have seen me here to-day." "That is candid, at all events," said the Duke; "and to say truth, I think that your prophecy, in some things, may be right; for I feel within my breast that undiminished power, that sense of my own strength, that confidence in my own destiny, which surely never can be given to a falling man. But you spoke of your own future high fortunes, sir. What may they be?"