Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical RomanceJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical Romance
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
France -- History -- Louis XIII, 1610-1643 -- Fiction
"No, my lord," replied the youth: "I have been watching some things
which I dislike."
"A very unsatisfactory employment," said Lord Montagu. "But what is it,
good youth? You look gloomy, and your face is full of meaning. Are the
Philistines upon us?"
"I do not know, my lord," replied Edward; "but I fear they soon will be.
I do not like those two blacksmiths, my lord. They are bent upon some
mischief, depend upon it."
"Oh, the old story!" said Montagu. "What is it now, Ned? Do they squint
the other way, perchance?"
Edward was mortified; but he answered, respectfully, "No, my noble lord,
but the same way as ever. I feel sure they are spies upon you and intend
to betray you the very first opportunity."
"Indeed!" said Montagu, now somewhat roused. "But the proofs, Master
Ned,--the proofs."
"Absolute proofs I cannot give," said Edward; "but their conduct is so
suspicious that I cannot believe them honest. I beg your lordship's
excuse while I detail what I have observed during the last ten days.
You can then judge for yourself. These men affect to speak a _patois_
almost incomprehensible; but I have detected them speaking as good
French as you or I more than once. Together they talk a language I do
not at all understand; but good Jacques Beaupré says it is Basque. I am
certain it is not Savoyard. At Geneva, one of them wrote a letter and
sent it off by a courier who was going to France. During the last two
days' journey they have been making as diligent inquiries at every inn,
as to the neighborhood, as if they had to direct the march."
"Pooh! that is all nothing," answered Montagu: "don't you think a
blacksmith may have a sweetheart to write to, as well as yourself, Ned?
And the poor devils, who have to find their way back, may well inquire
about the roads."
"Well, my lord, I have but little more to say," replied Edward. "All day
they have been looking curiously at every chateau we passed, even at
five miles' distance; they have lagged behind all along the road, and
stopped more than once to talk with the peasantry they met; and two
hours before we arrived here I saw one of them give a piece of money to
a lad, who set out incontinently over the fields."
"Ha! that was strange," said Montagu, thoughtfully. "What more?"
"Some three or four hours ago," continued the young man, "the taller of
the two despatched the hostler somewhere. I could not learn where; but I
heard him say, distinctly, 'Remember, tell him at eleven o'clock; not
before eleven!' I have waited and watched ever since, and the scoundrel
is now in close conference with a man who has come to see him, while his
horse is standing saddled in the stable."
"This looks serious," said Montagu, rising. "Have you remarked any thing
further?"
"Yes," answered Edward: "I have remarked that, though they pretend never
to have been in this part of the country before, they know every inch of
the road and have some acquaintance in every town."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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