France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction
“I am called the Count de Guiche,” continued the young man; “my father
is the Maréchal de Grammont; and now that you know who I am, do me the
honor to inform me who you are.”
“I am the Viscount de Bragelonne,” answered Raoul, blushing at being
unable to name his father, as the Count de Guiche had done.
“Viscount, your countenance, your goodness and your courage incline me
toward you; my gratitude is already due. Shake hands—I crave your
friendship.”
“Sir,” said Raoul, returning the count’s pressure of the hand, “I like
you already, from my heart; pray regard me as a devoted friend, I
beseech you.”
“And now, where are you going, viscount?” inquired De Guiche.
“To join the army, under the prince, count.”
“And I, too!” exclaimed the young man, in a transport of joy. “Oh, so
much the better, we will fire the first shot together.”
“It is well; be friends,” said the tutor; “young as you both are, you
were perhaps born under the same star and were destined to meet. And
now,” continued he, “you must change your clothes; your servants, to
whom I gave directions the moment they had left the ferryboat, ought to
be already at the inn. Linen and wine are both being warmed; come.”
The young men had no objection to this proposition; on the contrary,
they thought it very timely.
They mounted again at once, whilst looks of admiration passed between
them. They were indeed two elegant horsemen, with figures slight and
upright, noble faces, bright and proud looks, loyal and intelligent
smiles.
De Guiche might have been about eighteen years of age, but he was
scarcely taller than Raoul, who was only fifteen.
Chapter XXX.
Skirmishing.
The halt at Noyon was but brief, every one there being wrapped in
profound sleep. Raoul had desired to be awakened should Grimaud arrive,
but Grimaud did not arrive. Doubtless, too, the horses on their part
appreciated the eight hours of repose and the abundant stabling which
was granted them. The Count de Guiche was awakened at five o’clock in
the morning by Raoul, who came to wish him good-day. They breakfasted
in haste, and at six o’clock had already gone ten miles.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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