"My friend, Mr. Clyffurde, an English gentleman," said Victor de Marmont hastily in response to a quick look of suspicious enquiry which flashed out from under Emery's bushy eyebrows. "You can talk quite freely, Emery; and for God's sake tell us your news!" But Emery could hardly speak. He had been riding hard for the past three hours, his throat was parched, and through it his voice came up hoarse and raucous: nevertheless he at once began talking in short, jerky sentences. "He landed on Wednesday," he said. "I parted from him on Friday . . . at Castellane . . . you had my message?" "This morning early--we came at once." "I thought we could talk better here--first--but I was spent last night--I had to sleep at Corps . . . so I sent to you. . . . But now, in Heaven's name, give me something to drink. . . ." While he drank eagerly and greedily of the cold spiced wine which Clyffurde had served out to him, he still scrutinised the Englishman closely from under his frowning and bushy eyebrows. Clyffurde's winning glance, however, seemed to have conquered his mistrust, for presently, after he had put his mug down again, he stretched out a cordial hand to him. "Now that our Emperor is back with us," he said as if in apology for his former suspicions, "we, his friends, are bound to look askance at every Englishman we meet." "Of course you are," said Clyffurde with his habitual good-humoured smile as he grasped Surgeon-Captain Emery's extended hand. "It is the hand of a friend I am grasping?" insisted Emery. "Of a personal friend, if you will call him so," replied Clyffurde. "Politically, I hardly count, you see. I am just a looker-on at the game." The surgeon-captain's keen eyes under their bushy brows shot a rapid glance at the tall, well-knit figure of the Englishman. "You are not a fighting man?" he queried, much amazed. "No," replied Clyffurde drily. "I am only a tradesman." "Your news, Emery, your news!" here broke in Victor de Marmont, who during the brief colloquy between his two friends had been hardly able to keep his excitement in check. Emery turned away from the other man in silence. Clearly there was something about that fine, noble-looking fellow--who proclaimed himself a tradesman while that splendid physique of his should be at his country's service--which still puzzled the worthy army surgeon. But he was primarily very thirsty and secondly as eager to impart his news as de Marmont was to hear it, so now without wasting any further words on less important matter he sat down close to the table and stretched his short, thick legs out before him.