movements. Deceived by this intelligence he had concentrated
his forces between Vieille-Chapelle and La Venthie; and
after a reconnoissance along the entire line, in company
with Marshal de Grammont, he had returned and seated himself
before a table, with his officers around him. He questioned
them as to the news they had each been charged to obtain,
but nothing positive had been learned. The hostile army had
disappeared two days before and seemed to have gone out of
existence.
Now an enemy is never so near and consequently so
threatening, as when he has completely disappeared. The
prince was, therefore, contrary to his custom, gloomy and
anxious, when an officer entered and announced to Marshal de
Grammont that some one wished to see him.
The Duc de Grammont received permission from the prince by a
glance and went out. The prince followed him with his eyes
and continued looking at the door; no one ventured to speak,
for fear of disturbing him.
Suddenly a dull and heavy noise was heard. The prince leaped
to his feet, extending his hand in the direction whence came
the sound, there was no mistaking it -- it was the noise of
cannon. Every one stood up.
At that moment the door opened.
"Monseigneur," said Marshal de Grammont, with a radiant
face, "will your highness permit my son, Count de Guiche,
and his traveling companion, Viscount de Bragelonne, to come
in and give news of the enemy, whom they have found while we
were looking for him?"
"What!" eagerly replied the prince, "will I permit? I not
only permit, I desire; let them come in."
The marshal introduced the two young men and placed them
face to face with the prince.
"Speak, gentlemen," said the prince, saluting them; "first
speak; we shall have time afterward for the usual
compliments. The most urgent thing now is to learn where the
enemy is and what he is doing."
It fell naturally to the Count de Guiche to make reply; not
only was he the elder, but he had been presented to the
prince by his father. Besides, he had long known the prince,
whilst Raoul now saw him for the first time. He therefore
narrated to the prince what they had seen from the inn at
Mazingarbe.
Meanwhile Raoul closely observed the young general, already
made so famous by the battles of Rocroy, Fribourg, and
Nordlingen.
Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Conde, who, since the death of
his father, Henri de Bourbon, was called, in accordance with
the custom of that period, Monsieur le Prince, was a young
man, not more than twenty-six or twenty-seven years old,
with the eye of an eagle -- agl' occhi grifani, as Dante
says -- aquiline nose, long, waving hair, of medium height,
well formed, possessed of all the qualities essential to the
successful soldier -- that is to say, the rapid glance,
quick decision, fabulous courage. At the same time he was a
man of elegant manners and strong mind, so that in addition
to the revolution he had made in war, by his new
contributions to its methods, he had also made a revolution
at Paris, among the young noblemen of the court, whose
natural chief he was and who, in distinction from the social
leaders of the ancient court, modeled after Bassompierre,
Bellegarde and the Duke d'Angouleme, were called the
petits-maitres.
At the first words of the Count de Guiche, the prince,
having in mind the direction whence came the sound of
cannon, had understood everything. The enemy was marching
upon Lens, with the intention, doubtless, of securing
possession of that town and separating from France the army
of France. But in what force was the enemy? Was it a corps
sent out to make a diversion? Was it an entire army? To this
question De Guiche could not respond.
Now, as these questions involved matters of gravest
consequence, it was these to which the prince had especially
desired an answer, exact, precise, positive.
Raoul conquered the very natural feeling of timidity he
experienced and approaching the prince:
"My lord," he said, "will you permit me to hazard a few
words on that subject, which will perhaps relieve you of
your uncertainty?"
The prince turned and seemed to cover the young man with a
single glance; he smiled on perceiving that he was a child
hardly fifteen years old.
"Certainly, monsieur, speak," he said, softening his stern,
accented tones, as if he were speaking to a woman.
"My lord," said Raoul, blushing, "might examine the Spanish
prisoner."
"Have you a Spanish prisoner?" cried the prince.
"Yes, my lord."
"Ah, that is true," said De Guiche; "I had forgotten it."
"That is easily understood; it was you who took him, count,"
said Raoul, smiling.
The old marshal turned toward the viscount, grateful for
that praise of his son, whilst the prince exclaimed:
"The young man is right; let the prisoner be brought in."
Meanwhile the prince took De Guiche aside and asked him how
the prisoner had been taken and who this young man was.
"Monsieur," said the prince, turning toward Raoul, "I know
that you have a letter from my sister, Madame de
Longueville; but I see that you have preferred commending
yourself to me by giving me good counsel."
"My lord," said Raoul, coloring up, "I did not wish to
interrupt your highness in a conversation so important as
that in which you were engaged with the count. But here is
the letter."
"Very well," said the prince; "give it to me later. Here is
the prisoner; let us attend to what is most pressing."
The prisoner was one of those military adventurers who sold
their blood to whoever would buy, and grew old in stratagems
and spoils. Since he had been taken he had not uttered a
word, so that it was not known to what country he belonged.
The prince looked at him with unspeakable distrust.
"Of what country are you?" asked the prince.
The prisoner muttered a few words in a foreign tongue.
"Ah! ah! it seems that he is a Spaniard. Do you speak
Spanish, Grammont?"
"Faith, my lord, but indifferently."
"And I not at all," said the prince, laughing. "Gentlemen,"
he said, turning to those who were near him "can any one of
you speak Spanish and serve me as interpreter?"
"I can, my lord," said Raoul.
"Ah, you speak Spanish?"
"Enough, I think, to fulfill your highness's wishes on this
occasion."
Meanwhile the prisoner had remained impassive and as if he
had no understanding of what was taking place.
"My lord asks of what country you are," said the young man,
in the purest Castilian.
"Ich bin ein Deutscher," replied the prisoner.
"What in the devil does he say?" asked the prince. "What new
gibberish is that?"
"He says he is German, my lord," replied Raoul; "but I doubt
it, for his accent is bad and his pronunciation defective."
"Then you speak German, also?" asked the prince.
"Yes, my lord."
"Well enough to question him in that language?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Question him, then."
Raoul began the examination, but the result justified his
opinion. The prisoner did not understand, or seemed not to
understand, what Raoul said to him; and Raoul could hardly
understand his replies, containing a mixture of Flemish and
Alsatian. However, amidst all the prisoner's efforts to
elude a systematic examination, Raoul had recognized his
natural accent.
"Non siete Spagnuolo," he said; "non siete Tedesco; siete
Italiano."
The prisoner started and bit his lips.
"Ah, that," said the prince, "I understand that language
thoroughly; and since he is Italian I will myself continue
the examination. Thank you, viscount," continued the prince,
laughing, "and I appoint you from this moment my
interpreter."
But the prisoner was not less unwilling to respond in
Italian than in the other languages; his aim was to elude
the examination. Therefore, he knew nothing either of the
enemy's numbers, or of those in command, or of the purpose
of the army.
"Very good," said the prince, understanding the reason of
that ignorance; "the man was caught in the act of
assassination and robbery; he might have purchased his life
by speaking; he doesn't wish to speak. Take him out and
shoot him."
The prisoner turned pale. The two soldiers who had brought
him in took him, each by one arm, and led him toward the
door, whilst the prince, turning to Marshal de Grammont,
seemed to have already forgotten the order he had given.
When he reached the threshold of the door the prisoner
stopped. The soldiers, who knew only their orders, attempted
to force him along.
"One moment," said the prisoner, in French. "I am ready to
speak, my lord."
"Ah! ah!" said the prince, laughing, "I thought we should
come to that. I have a sure method of limbering tongues.
Young men, take advantage of it against the time when you
may be in command."
"But on condition," continued the prisoner, "that your
highness will swear that my life shall be safe."
"Upon my honor," said the prince.
"Question, then, my lord."
"Where did the army cross the Lys?"
"Between Saint-Venant and Aire."
"By whom is it commanded?"
"By Count de Fuonsaldagna, General Beck and the archduke."
"Of how many does it consist?"
"Eighteen thousand men and thirty-six cannon."
"And its aim is?"
"Lens."
"You see; gentlemen!" said the prince, turning with a
triumphant air toward Marshal de Grammont and the other
officers.
"Yes, my lord," said the marshal, "you have divined all that
was possible to human genius."
"Recall Le Plessis, Bellievre, Villequier and D'Erlac," said
the prince, "recall all the troops that are on this side of
the Lys. Let them hold themselves in readiness to march
to-night. To-morrow, according to all probability, we shall
attack the enemy."
"But, my lord," said Marshal de Grammont, "consider that
when we have collected all our forces we shall have hardly
thirteen thousand men."
"Monsieur le marechal," said the prince, with that wonderful
glance that was peculiar to him, "it is with small armies
that great battles are won."
Then turning toward the prisoner, "Take away that man," he
said, "and keep him carefully in sight. His life is
dependent on the information he has given us; if it is true,
he shall be free; if false, let him be shot."
The prisoner was led away.
"Count de Guiche," said the prince, "it is a long time since
you saw your father, remain here with him. Monsieur," he
continued, addressing Raoul, "if you are not too tired,
follow me."
"To the end of the world, my lord!" cried Raoul, feeling an
unknown enthusiasm for that young general, who seemed to him
so worthy of his renown.
The prince smiled; he despised flatterers, but he
appreciated enthusiasts.
"Come, monsieur," he said, "you are good in council, as we
have already discovered; to-morrow we shall know if you are
good in action."
"And I," said the marshal, "what am I to do?"
"Wait here to receive the troops. I shall either return for
them myself or shall send a courier directing you to bring
them to me. Twenty guards, well mounted, are all that I
shall need for my escort."
"That is very few," said the marshal.
"It is enough," replied the prince. "Have you a good horse,
Monsieur de Bragelonne?"
"My horse was killed this morning, my lord, and I am mounted
provisionally on my lackey's."
"Choose for yourself in my stables the horse you like best.
No false modesty; take the best horse you can find. You will
need it this evening, perhaps; you will certainly need it
to-morrow."
Raoul didn't wait to be told twice; he knew that with
superiors, especially when those superiors are princes, the
highest politeness is to obey without delay or argument; he
went down to the stables, picked out a pie-bald Andalusian
horse, saddled and bridled it himself, for Athos had advised
him to trust no one with those important offices at a time
of danger, and went to rejoin the prince, who at that moment
mounted his horse.
"Now, monsieur," he said to Raoul, "will you give me the
letter you have brought?"
Raoul handed the letter to the prince.
"Keep near me," said the latter.
The prince threw his bridle over the pommel of the saddle,
as he was wont to do when he wished to have both hands free,
unsealed the letter of Madame de Longueville and started at
a gallop on the road to Lens, attended by Raoul and his
small escort, whilst messengers sent to recall the troops
set out with a loose rein in other directions. The prince
read as he hastened on.
"Monsieur," he said, after a moment, "they tell me great
things of you. I have only to say, after the little that I
have seen and heard, that I think even better of you than I
have been told.'
Raoul bowed.
Meanwhile, as the little troop drew nearer to Lens, the
noise of the cannon sounded louder. The prince kept his gaze
fixed in the direction of the sound with the steadfastness
of a bird of prey. One would have said that his gaze could
pierce the branches of trees which limited his horizon. From
time to time his nostrils dilated as if eager for the smell
of powder, and he panted like a horse.
