Two hours had not passed after the sun's rising above the horizon when Edward Langdale stood with a small group of officers at the extreme outpost of the royal army, before what was called the Niort gate of the city of Rochelle. There was still a space of about five hundred yards between him and the walls; and before him rose all those towers and pinnacles, many of which have since been destroyed, but which rendered then and still render Rochelle one of the most picturesque cities of France when seen from a distance. During the whole siege the operations, though sure and terrible, had been slow and apparently tardy. The Rochellois had been glad to husband their powder; and it was no part of Richelieu's plan to breach the walls or to do more than harass the citizens by an occasional attack. On this morning there had been no firing on either side, and the town looked as quiet and peaceable as if there were no hostile force before it. But, as Edward Langdale and his companion, a young officer of the cardinal's guard, had ridden down from Mauzé, the latter had pointed out to the young Englishman that famous dyke which, stretching across the mouth of the port, had gradually cut off the city from all communication with friends at home or allies abroad. He had, in a jesting way, too, put some questions to Edward in regard to the objects of his journey; but he obtained no information, and did not dare to press them closely. "You had better take some more breakfast, sir," said an old officer commanding at the advance-posts. "You will get none in there; and, though we are forbidden to suffer the slightest morsel to go in, I presume that does not apply to what a man can carry in his stomach." "I shall soon be back again if they let me in at all," answered Edward. "Can any one give me a white flag? for I may as well not draw the fire. That is a sort of breakfast I have no inclination for." A small white flag was soon procured, and, leaving his horse with Pierrot and Beaupré, who had followed him down the hill, Edward set out on foot. He carried the white flag in his hand and approached the gate with a calm, steady pace. He saw some men walk quickly along the wall toward the same point to which his own course was directed; but the flag of truce was respected, and he was permitted to come within five or six yards of the heavy gate. Then, however, a voice shouted from behind a small grated wicket, "Stand back! What seek you here?" "I seek to speak with the syndic Clement Tournon," said Edward; "and, if not with him, with Monsieur Guiton, mayor of the city." "Stand back! You cannot enter here," said the man on the other side. "Will you cause the mayor to be informed," said Edward, "that Master Edward Langdale, an English gentleman well known in Rochelle, stands without and desires admittance, if it be but for an hour?"