"Why, good faith, everybody was talking of it, and nobody doing it," replied his dry companion; "but if you must needs know all, Sir, men whispered in one another's ears that the King's pockets were empty, and that his financiers kept them so on purpose." "For what object?" demanded De Montigni. "To put the money in their own pocket which they kept out of his," answered his companion. "Try the thing with your own farmers, Sir, and you will find the same happen. You will get no money till you go to fetch it that you may be sure of." "I hope I shall," answered De Montigni, "for I have much need of it just now." "Ah, poor young gentleman," replied the trumpeter; "I am sorry for you; for those who want money, and don't choose to go and fetch it, will soon have to ride in holey boots. However, why should a subject be better off than a king? I have seen our Henry before now, with a hole in the elbow of his pourpoint; and many a time he has been glad to dine off pumpkin soup and a lump of black bread." "Poor fare, assuredly, for a Monarch," said De Montigni musing; "and yet the want of money may produce worse disasters than that, my friend,--especially where time is almost life." "Assuredly, Sir," answered the trumpeter; "but perseverance comes to the aid of all. I thought I never should have got to Chartres this morning; for there are all sorts of bands roving the country, who have no more respect for a trumpet or a flag of truce, than they have for an old cheese, or a maid's modesty." De Montigni remained silent for several minutes; but at length he said, "I wish I could meet with one of those bands you speak of." "By my faith and honour, Sir," replied his companion with a laugh, "you may meet with one of them sooner than you would find pleasant. They are as easy to be found as cow-slips in the spring, but not quite so fragrant." "They might answer my purpose, however," said the young Baron. "I suppose they would take service with any one who would pay them?" "Ay, that they would," rejoined the trumpeter; "though you might find some honour amongst them too, notwithstanding all that Monsieur de Nemours said just now. Your furious Leaguer--unless he were a gentleman--would not sell himself to the King, for any money; and your stiff Protestant would not go over to the League for gold and roast meat. But there are plenty of birds between those two flights, who care not a straw on which side they appear, so that they fight, plunder, and get paid."