It was with a feeling of some gladness that, after a long and, to my fair Louise, somewhat fatiguing march, I at length saw the camp of the Reformed army occupying a position not very different from that in which it had been placed when I left it. The convenience of the troops had of course been consulted, and the greater part of the army had been put into quarters, either in the town of Loudun, or in the villages round about. Three or four of these villages to the southeast of Loudun had indeed been converted into a sort of detached camp, being united by long lines of tents, which served the soldiery for many of the occupations of the day; and here I saw the colours of the Prince de Condé hurrying about, so that it was to the centre of this part of the army that I directed my progress, knowing that there my own tents and baggage would be found. The frost was somewhat less intense, and the sun shining clear and bright, when my little cavalcade approached a battery of three small pieces of artillery which defended the principal entrance of the village that formed the centre. It was a gay and cheerful scene; strife for a time had ceased, and the soldiers were amusing themselves, as best they might, in various manners, though just on the outside of the camp the amusements that were going on were certainly all of an athletic kind, for it needed the most robust exercise to make the blood circulate freely in the terrible cold of that year. A considerable number of officers and gentlemen were gathered together near the battery I have spoken of, looking out over the wintry scene before them; and as my coming formed a little incident in the somewhat monotonous life they had led for the last two days, five or six of those who knew me came forth to shake hands, and to congratulate me on my safe return. "Well, fortunate De Cerons," cried one, looking somewhat earnestly at Louise, who had drawn the veil down over her whole head and face as we approached, "You have made a fair booty, as usual." He spoke with a smile, but I replied, "I sent all the booty that I did get back to the camp the day before yesterday; but all that was found was in the enemy's tents, I believe. I have been lucky enough, however, to rescue my fair cousin, Mademoiselle de Blancford, from the hands of the Catholics, who had taken her prisoner; so I must see where I can find some sort of comfortable quarters. You have no idea, Monsieur de Luze, where my people are with the baggage?" "Oh, the Prince de Condé has taken especial good care of you," said the other, laughing; "he has given you the house of a fat farmer there up at the end of the village, and a cottage close by it for your people. Montgomery wanted it, and half a dozen others; but he said you had done him as much service that night by your army of baggage-wagons on the hill as if you had brought him up ten thousand men; and therefore, having sent you to follow the enemy, he would be your quartermaster himself."