Edward nodded, and he went on thus:--"'I got into a devil of a scrape last summer about him and a girl he had with him. Who the mischief he is I don't know; but, by what the cardinal said when I saw him, I think he must be his Eminence's pet cat turned into a cavalier. On your life, be as civil to him as possible; give him the best rooms in the castle, and feed and drink him well, till I can come over myself,--which will be as soon as I hear from the cardinal to-morrow. I am half afraid to stop him. But what can I do? The orders are strict not to let any one pass the posts, because'----The rest," continued the old man, abruptly, "refers to matters of no consequence. You will find the rooms of the castle very comfortable, for they were inhabited by the Duc de Rohan but a few weeks before we sat down before the place, and some of the old servants have been suffered to remain till the king's pleasure is known. Heaven grant there be no ghosts there to disturb you!--though there are some strange tales, as in regard to every old country-house." "I am not afraid of any thing unsubstantial," answered Edward. "Do you know what has become of the Duc de Rohan?" "No,--not rightly," replied the old officer, with some slight hesitation. "They did say he was threatening the right flank of the army with a body of horse; but he must have found out by this time it was of no use. Men must submit to circumstances, sir. But let us go. I will have the honor of escorting you. We shall find your servants somewhere about." And, calling aloud for torches, he led the way out of the low house where he had taken up his quarters, and gave some orders to the men about the door. Before the torches were lighted and Edward Langdale and his companion, with two men before them, had proceeded a hundred yards up the hill, Jacques Beaupré and Pierrot had joined them, leading the horses. In sooth, the party proceeded exceedingly slowly; and it took a full quarter of an hour to reach the gates of the chateau. All watch and ward was gone; and at the inner door of the lodging-part of the building appeared a tremulous old man with a candle in his hand. The old officer called him "Matthew," as if they had been long acquainted, and ordered him briefly to pay every attention to the guest and give him the best chambers in the house. "Those are the duchess's apartments," said the old majordomo. "We will have a fire lighted in a moment, gentlemen; but I fear me there is not much in the house to eat. However, I will tell old Henri Borgne, who was cook here before Maître Grondin's father came, to get something ready with all speed." "No, no," said the old officer: "this gentleman is not fond of antediluvian sauces. I will make shift to send him up a roast chicken and a pottage. We are not particularly well off for provisions down below; but I can find something, and I think, Matthew, you can find the wine."