For some weeks Harry was fully occupied in learning his new duties, practising with sword and rapier, and improving his knowledge of Dutch: Sherebiah’s command of the language was of course no longer a mystery. Schomberg’s Horse, to which Fanshawe belonged, being likewise quartered outside Breda, Harry often had opportunities of conversation with his friend. Naturally Fanshawe was amazed to hear of the strange enmity of Mr. Berkeley, and shrewdly guessed that the soldier of fortune who had informed on Sherebiah was Captain Aglionby. "And mark my words," he said, "’twas another move against you. Sherry seems to have been a sort of watchdog to you; him out of the way, so much the less difficulty in aiming at you. Though what cause the squire has to wish you ill it passes my wit to divine." "And mine too. ’Tis a desperate revenge on me for being my father’s son." "Have a care, Harry. Having gone so far they will not easily be baulked, and in these cut-and-thrust times a blow in the dark, eh?—exit Harry Rochester." "I’ll be on my guard, never fear; and I still have Sherry." Harry had not forgotten his friends at Lindendaal. He rode over one free afternoon some three weeks after joining his regiment, and found that the ladies had heard of his promotion, and of his ride, from Mynheer Grootz. Madame de Vaudrey was ecstatic in her congratulations, and only deplored that his new coat was not more brilliant. "It suits you well, mon ami," she said, "but for myself I should like better the red than the blue." "Indeed, Madame," replied Harry with a laugh, "I hadn’t given it a thought. There’s one advantage in a dull garb: it presents a less conspicuous mark to the enemy." "A point, Monsieur, to which also you had not given a thought till this moment," said Adèle. Harry laughed; then, changing the subject, he added: "Have you heard or seen anything more of Monsieur de Polignac and his friend?" "Nothing, Monsieur Harry," said the comtesse. "And indeed we do not wish to. I only fear lest his silence augurs no good for us. As for his friend, that odious captain——prrrut!" Madame’s indignation was too great for articulate expression. The idea of Aglionby daring to pay his addresses to her was too monstrous. As was her wont in this mood, she prattled away about her late husband, Harry listening sympathetically and wondering at the half-smile on Adèle’s face. When taking his leave, he said: "An old friend of mine, an English officer, is in camp at Breda. May I bring him, Madame, to call on you one day?" "I shall be charmed, mon cher ami." "Fanshawe speaks little French, I fear, but——" "Ah bah!" interrupted the lady, "that matters nothing at all. Adèle shall teach him." "I shall be charmed, as Mamma says," said Adèle. Harry smiled; nevertheless the suggestion set him thinking as he rode back, and he felt a shade of annoyance when Fanshawe, to whom he mentioned the circumstance, laughed heartily and quoted: