I shook my head and followed de Rone, who had already moved a few paces onwards. And yet, as I rode on, Nicholas' words came back to me with an insistent force. It was not possible for me to expect any other issue than the worst, after what had happened. My big Norman horse was fleet and strong; but a turn of my wrist, a touch of my spur, and we should be a hundred yards away before de Rone could realise what had happened; and then the road was clear to the banks of the Lelle, where the King was himself; yes, the King. He was that to me, in my heart, although loyalty to my family and its chiefs had made me throw in my lot with the little band of exiles who remained true to the dead legend of the League, and preferred to eat the bread of Spain rather than accept the great Frenchman who had fought his way to his birthright. Even now, whispers were stirring the air that the end was coming; that the Archduke was sick of the war; that d'Aumale pined for his stately park of Anet; that Mayenne had practically submitted, and the Guisard was himself unsteady. If so, why should not I, Alban de Breuil, whose crow's nest of Auriac was half in ruins, and who reckoned an income of a bare two hundred pistoles, see the error of my ways as well? Behind me was safety. In front, between the nodding ears of my horse, there dangled a vision of a rope with a noose at the end of it; and I a noble! It was now midnight, and we distinctly heard the bells of Ste. Genevieve ringing the Sexts. They came to me with a refrain of 'Turn and ride, Turn and ride.' _Mordieu!_ but I was sorely tempted. 'Gallop!' De Rone's sharp command broke the thread of my thoughts, and ended all chance of escape. We set spurs to our horses and splashed through the ford of the Oise, a half mile from the outpost. On the other bank a picket challenged, and, giving them the word, we rode in the direction of the even white line of the camp. A few strides more and we reined in at the door of the General's tent. The guard presented arms and I received a brief order to dismount and follow de Rone. I entered the tent, and stood patiently whilst he walked backwards and forwards for a little time. Suddenly he stopped and, facing me, said, 'Well, M. d'Auriac?' 'It could not be helped, your Excellency,' I stammered. 'You said that of de Gonnor, and promised it should never occur again----' 'But there were circumstances----' 'Pshaw!' he exclaimed, 'I guess them all--wine--dice--women. One of the prisoners was a woman. I saw you pick up that knot of ribbon. There is no excuse--_Croix Dieu!_ None.' 'I had the honour to be the first man behind your Excellency at the storm of Laon,' I said, with a happy recollection. 'And saved my life, you were going to say,' he cut in. I bowed, and de Rone began again to pace up and down, tugging at his short pointed beard. I was determined to seize the three hairs occasion offered, and continued: 'And that was after M. de Gonnor's unfortunate accident.'