by G. A. Henty
Chapter 7: In Paris Again.
"You have indeed done well, Monsieur Kennedy," the baron said,when Desmond finished his story.
"Now, let us see to my daughter. Her maid is attending on her. Shefainted when the fight began. She is not of a fainting sort, butthe trials of the last few weeks, and her belief that de la Valleewas killed, have very much upset her."
"No wonder," Desmond said. "It must have been terrible, indeed, tolose her lover, and to know that she was again in the power ofthat villain.
"And you, Baron; how did you escape the fate that befell the restof your convoy?"
"We had ridden close up to the tree, when suddenly there was adischarge of firearms. The two men with me fell at once. I wasunhurt, but as I turned my horse he fell dead, three bulletshaving pierced his chest. Before I could recover my feet, therascals were upon me. They evidently intended to take me alive,for they were provided with ropes, and, binding my arms, hurriedme back to the carriage.
"By the time we got there, all was over. My faithful Eustace andthe coachman lay dead by the side of the carriage. They had foughtstoutly, for three of the brigands lay beside them. Six otherswere scattered near, and the brigands were gathered round a fallenman, who I guessed was their leader.
"I found Anne in a state of the wildest grief. She told me thatshe had seen Philip shot by the vicomte, just as he was attackinghim, and that you in turn had cut down the villain.
"For half an hour, nothing was done, and then one, who wasevidently in authority over the others, left the troop and came upto the carriage.
"'Monsieur le Baron,' he said, 'the orders of my chief are thatyou are to be placed in the carriage, with your daughter and hermaid. If you will give your word of honour that you will notattempt to escape, or to give the alarm as you go along, or toaddress a word to anyone whom we may encounter, your arms will befreed, and you will be treated with all respect. If, on thecontrary, you decline to give this promise, my instructions arethat your feet as well as your hands are to be tied, and that youare to be gagged and placed in the bottom of the carriage. You arealso to answer for your daughter and her maid; that they, too,neither by word nor gesture, shall attempt to attract theattention of anyone in the villages that we may pass through."
"It was a hard condition, but I had no choice. The idea that Ishould suffer the indignity of being bound and gagged, like acommon malefactor, made my blood boil. I should, in that case, nomore be able to give the alarm than if I had been free; thereforeI gave the promise, for at least it would be a comfort, to Anne,that I should be with her and able to talk to her.
"We stopped two nights on the road, being lodged at solitaryhouses on the way. A guard was placed at my chamber door, andanother at my window, and even had I not given my word I could nothave escaped.
"And now, Monsieur Kennedy, what do you propose?"
"I think, sir, that it would be best that you should start atonce, in the carriage, for Pointdexter. Monsieur Philip'sintendant and his men will ride as your escort, but I do not thinkthat there is the slightest probability of your being interferedwith; for now that the vicomte is dead, these men--who were not, Ithink, his retainers, but a band of robbers whom he had hired forthe occasion--will have no further motive for attacking you.
"I myself shall return to Aubusson, send back the horse on which Irode there, hire another, and make straight for Moulins, where Istill hope that I may find Monsieur de la Vallee alive.
"Did you see the vicomte, after you were attacked?"
"No. I heard one of the men tell the fellows who were guarding usthat your stroke had cut off one of his ears, and laid his cheekbare from the eye to the chin. I fancy that he was too badly hurtto come to us, but in any case he would not have cared to showhimself, in so terrible a plight."
"We must admit that, with all his faults, he was brave," Desmondsaid; "for, in spite of his pain and weakness, and of the factthat his head was enveloped in bandages, he sprang from hislitter, leapt into one of the saddles we had emptied, and, singlehanded, made for me, until my man cut his career short with abullet.
"As you go through Croc, it might be well that you should send oneof the villagers off to his castle, to tell them that their masteris lying dead here, when doubtless they will send out a party tofetch in his body."
By this time, Mademoiselle de Pointdexter had recovered from herfaint. She held out her hand to Desmond, as he stood bareheadedbeside the door.
"You have rescued me again, Monsieur Kennedy," she said; "for,though life seems worthless to me now, you have saved me from farworse than death. That you have so saved me, for my father's sakeas well as my own, I thank you with all my heart."
"I would have you still hope, mademoiselle. We know that Monsieurde la Vallee fell, but many men fall from their horses whenwounded, even when the wound is not vital. I am riding at once toMoulins, and trust to find him still alive. Therefore, I pray youdo not give up all hope."
"I dare not let myself hope," she said. "It would be but to sufferanother blow. Still, I feel that I have so much to be thankful forthat, grievous as my sorrow is, I shall try to bear it, with thehelp of the Holy Virgin."
The party now separated. The baron mounted one of the horses leftbehind by the brigands, and with the men from la Vallee startedfor Pointdexter; while Desmond, with Mike Callaghan, rode back toAubusson.
There they slept for a few hours, and then obtained fresh horsesand started for Moulins, where they arrived late in the evening.They alighted at the Soleil, where Desmond had ordered the twomen, who had gone on from Roanne, to bring the body of Monsieur dela Vallee.
"The gentleman is not here, sir," the landlord said, as he came tothe door. "He was brought into the town by the men sent out by themayor. As, by his dress, he was evidently a gentleman of quality,they took him straight to the Couronne."
"Was he alive?"
"Yes, sir; but, as I hear, the surgeons are unable to decide yetwhether he will live. The men you sent here arrived the day afterhe was brought in. They told me that you would return, and puttheir horses here, but they are now in attendance on the woundedgentleman, who, it seems, is their lord."
"Thank God, he is alive!" Desmond exclaimed. "I have news for himthat will do more than the surgeons can to restore him tohimself."
Leaving Mike to see the horses stabled, he hurried away to theother hotel. He sent up his name, and one of the surgeons camedown.
"Monsieur de la Vallee is very ill," he said, "although his woundis not necessarily mortal. This morning we succeeded in extractingthe ball, but he is in a terribly weak state. He is unable tospeak above a whisper, and does not seem to care to make anyeffort. It would appear that he even does not wish to live."
"I have news that will put fresh life into him."
"Then by all means go in and see him, sir. We have thought that heis fast sinking; but if the news you bring can rouse him intomaking an effort to live, he may yet recover. I will go in andgive him a strong restorative, and tell him that you are here."
In three or four minutes, he came to the door of the chamber, andbeckoned to Desmond to enter.
"The sound of your name has roused him from the lethargy, intowhich he seemed sinking," he whispered. "When I told him that Icould not allow you to enter, until he had taken the draught thatI gave him, he swallowed it eagerly."
Desmond went up to the bedside, and took the hand which lay on thecoverlet. The pressure was slightly returned, and Philip's lipsmoved, but he spoke so faintly that Desmond had to lean over him,to hear the words.
"I am glad, indeed, that you are safe and sound. I have beenreproaching myself, bitterly, that I should have brought you intothis fatal business. As to the rest of it, I dare not even thinkof it; but I shall die all the easier for knowing that you haveescaped."
"I escaped for a good purpose, Philip. I have good news for you.Monsieur le Baron and mademoiselle are on their way to Pointdexter,under the guard of your men."
"Is it possible, Desmond, or are you only sayi
ng it to rouse me?"
"Not at all, Philip. You do not suppose that, even for thatpurpose, I would hold out false hopes to you; or tell an untruthon a matter so vital to your happiness."
Philip's eyes closed, but his lips moved, and Desmond knew that hewas returning thanks to God for this unlooked-for news.
"How did it happen?" Philip said, after a silence of some minutes.
His voice was much stronger than before, and there was a fainttouch of colour in his cheeks. The surgeon nodded approvingly toDesmond, and murmured, "I think that he will live."
"It is too long a story to tell you in full, now," Desmond said."Seeing that all was lost, that you were down, and that furtherresistance was absolutely fruitless, Mike and I cut our way out;the more easily since I had struck down their leader, de Tulle,and most of his band had crowded round him. At Roanne I found yourmen, who had just arrived there. It matters not now why they hadbeen detained. I got fresh horses for them and rode for Correze,placed an ambush, and turned the tables upon them. Mike shot thevicomte, and we easily defeated his followers, and rescued thebaron and his daughter. I sent them to Pointdexter under charge ofyour intendant and followers, and rode hither, hoping against hopethat I might find you still alive. Your two men, who came on here,could have told you that I had escaped."
"I did not allow them to speak to monsieur," the surgeon said, "oreven to see him. They are below, greatly grieved at being refusedentry; but I told them that any agitation might be fatal to theirmaster, and that they could do nothing for him if they came up;for indeed, up to the time when we extracted the ball, he wasunconscious.
"And now, monsieur, I think that it were best you should retire. Ishall give Monsieur de la Vallee a soothing draught. A night'srest will be of vital importance to him. And now that you haverelieved his mind of the load that has evidently weighed upon him,I think there is little doubt that he will soon fall asleep."
"I will go and have supper," Desmond said, "for I have riddenfifty miles since I last ate, and then it was but a piece of breadwith a draught of wine. After that I will, with your permission,return here, and if you tell me that he sleeps, will take my placeby his bedside till morning."
"To that I have no objection," the surgeon said. "I and acolleague have, one or other, been with him since he was broughtin; and I shall be glad of a rest, myself."
Desmond returned to the Soleil, where he had left Mike. Thelatter, who had just finished his supper, was delighted to hearthat de la Vallee was likely to recover. After satisfying his ownhunger, Desmond returned to the Couronne. He went upstairs, and,taking off his riding boots, stole to the door of his friend'schamber. It stood a little ajar, and, pushing it open noiselessly,he entered.
The surgeon, who was sitting at the bedside, rose at once.
"He is asleep already," he whispered, "and is breathing quietly. Ithink it likely that he will not stir until tomorrow morning. Ishall be here at six. If he wakes, and there is any change, sendfor me at once."
After he had left the room, Desmond took his place on the fauteuilby the bedside. For a time, he thought over the singular chain ofadventures that he had gone through. Gradually, in spite of hisefforts, his eyelids drooped. De la Vallee had not moved, and,being dead tired by the exertions of the past four days, he fellinto a deep sleep, from which he did not awake until daylightstreamed into the room.
Shocked at having thus given way, he looked anxiously at de laVallee, and was relieved to find that he was lying exactly in thesame position, and had evidently slept without once waking. Halfan hour later, Philip opened his eyes, looked wonderingly at him,and then said:
"So, it was not all a good dream, Desmond! You are really here,and your news is true?"
"Certainly, it is true, Philip. By this time Mademoiselle dePointdexter and her father are far on the way home. They were tohave travelled on to Argentan, and then through Aurillac, strikingthe Lozere at Entraigues and proceeding along its banks to Mende,and thence by a road over the hills to Villefort, where they wouldbe twenty miles from Pointdexter. The carriage was to be leftbehind at their first halting place. Mademoiselle was then toride, and her maid to be carried behind one of your men, by whichmeans they would travel more than twice as fast as they would do,if encumbered by the carriage. The baron said that he would spareno pains to get home as quickly as possible, and would send a manon, some hours ahead of him, to see that fresh horses were inreadiness for the whole party at each town they came to."
"Now tell me all about it, Desmond. I feel another man. Your goodnews, and a long night's sleep, have done wonders for me. Now,please tell me all about the affair."
Seeing that Philip was so much stronger that he could hear,without being overexcited, the story of the rescue, Desmondrelated all the details to him.
"You have indeed done wonders," Philip said. "You do not seem toknow what fatigue is. How strange that you, whose name I had neverheard until ten days back, should have rendered to BaronPointdexter and myself two such inestimable services.
"And so, after all your exertions and fatigue, you have beenkeeping watch at my bedside all night?"
"I am ashamed to say that I have not been keeping watch, Philip,"Desmond replied with a smile. "I had intended to, but you weresleeping so quietly, and everything was so still, that I went offand slept, as soundly as you have done, until within half an hourof the time when you opened your eyes; but I am sure that I shouldhave awoke at once, had you moved."
"Then I am glad that I did not move, Desmond, for you must sorelyneed a long sleep, after having passed three days and almost threenights in the saddle."
The surgeons now arrived, and were delighted at the change thathad taken place in their patient.
"And when shall I be fit to travel, doctor?"
"Ah, well, we will talk of that in another fortnight's time. Youneed absolute quiet, for were you to move, before your wound isfairly healed, inflammation might set in, and that would throw youback for a very long time. You have had a very narrow escape, andyou are fortunate, indeed, to have got off with only a triflingdetention."
"But I might be carried in a horse litter?"
"Certainly not, at present," the surgeon said decidedly."Possibly, in ten days, you might without danger be so carried,providing they take you in short stages and with easy-pacedhorses; but I should say that it would be still better, were youto be carried on men's shoulders. There is never any difficulty inhiring men, and you could get relays every eight or ten miles,while it would be difficult to get horses accustomed to suchwork."
"You don't think that I should be able to ride, doctor?"
"Certainly not in less than a month, probably not in six weeks."
"Then I must be carried," Philip said. "I should work myself intothe fever you talk of, if I were to be kept here.
"What are your plans, Desmond?"
"I have not thought of them, yet. At any rate, I shall stay withyou till you are well enough to start."
"I could not think of that, Desmond."
"You have no say in the matter, Philip. In the first place, youwill get on all the faster for my being with you. In the nextplace, ten days of my leave are already expired, and were we to goon straight to Pointdexter, I should only have a few days therebefore starting back for Paris, and I must therefore postpone myvisit to some future time. I can stay here ten days, accompany yousome four days on your journey, and then turn back again."
"A nice way of spending a month's holiday!" Philip grumbled.
"It will be a holiday that I shall long look back to," Desmondsaid quietly, "and with pleasure. I do not say that I should nothave enjoyed myself at the baron's chateau, for that I should havedone; but the adventures that I have gone through will remain inmy mind, all my life, as having gained the friendship of yourself,the baron, and his daughter."
"Friendship seems to me too mild a word for it, Desmond. You haveearned a gratitude so deep that it will be a pain to us, if wecannot show it in deeds."
"And now, Philip," Desm
ond said, changing the subject abruptly, "Isuppose that you will be, at once, sending off one of your menwith the news that you are in a fair way towards recovery.Mademoiselle de Pointdexter is suffering at the thought that youwere probably killed. I did my best to give her hope, but withoutmuch success. Your two retainers have been fretting greatly thatthey were not allowed to see you, but I think that now they can bebrought up, and you can choose one of them to act as yourmessenger. He will, of course, ride post, and can arrive atPointdexter very soon after the baron, if indeed he does not getthere first. If he starts at once, and changes horses at eachplace, he may be there by tomorrow at noon, if not earlier; for itis not more, I believe, than a hundred and twenty miles toPointdexter. If you will dictate a letter for him to take, I willwrite it for you."
"It must be a short one," the surgeon said, "just a few words.Monsieur de la Vallee has talked more than is good for him."
Half an hour later the messenger started, carrying a note with afew words from Philip to Anne, and a longer letter from Desmond tothe baron. Four days later answers were received. The messengerhad arrived at Pointdexter two hours before the travellers reachedhome, and Anne's joy at the news that, not only was Philip alive,but might in a short time be with her, was deep indeed. The baronwrote to Desmond, as well as to Philip, again expressing the deepgratitude of himself and his daughter, greatly regretting that heshould not have the opportunity, at present, of thanking himpersonally. With the letter the messenger brought a bag of money,concerning which he wrote:
"You have, I know, dear Monsieur Kennedy, expended a considerablesum of money in hiring relays of horses, for yourself and Monsieurde la Vallee's men; and this, of course, is a debt you cannotobject to my repaying. Without knowing the exact sum, I haveroughly calculated the probable amount, and forward it to you bythe messenger who will bring you this letter."
Desmond had no hesitation in accepting the money. The baron hadevidently taken considerable pains to calculate the sums that hemust have laid out, in order not to hurt his feelings by sending alarger sum than he had spent, for the amount contained in the bagwas but a few louis over his disbursements. He at once rode overto Roanne and redeemed his ring, which had proved of more value tohim than he had ever anticipated.
At the end of the ten days, Philip was strong enough to walkacross the room, and the surgeon gave permission for him to start,if, instead of being carried all the way, he would be taken toLyons, which was but twenty miles distant, and there take boatdown the Rhone to Viviers. Desmond went with him to Lyons, and sawhim comfortably bestowed on board a craft going down the river,and there left him in charge of his own retainers. Then,accompanied by Mike, whose wound was now well healed, he rode backto Paris by comparatively easy stages, arriving there on the daybefore his leave was up. He reported himself to the colonel.
"So you have not been to Pointdexter after all! I received a longletter a week ago from the baron, sent by special messenger,giving me a full account of your doings, which reads like achapter of romance. He mentioned that he had also written to theking, denouncing the conduct of the Vicomte de Tulle; and statingthat, in the fight between his own rescuers and the vicomte'sband, the latter was killed, and doing full justice to the partyou played in the affair. I had a message from His Majestyyesterday, ordering that you should, as soon as you returned, goat once to Versailles, in order that he might question you furtheron the affair.
"I have another piece of news for you. We have received orders tomarch in three days' time, which is a fortunate circumstance foryou, for there can be no doubt that, however gallantly and wellyou have behaved in this affair, and in whatever light His Majestymay view it, you have incurred the enmity of de Tulle's family andconnections, and the air of Paris would not be healthy for you,for a time. I need not say that I have read the baron's letter toyour comrades, and that they fully shared with me the admiration Ifeel at your conduct."
"Had I better start at once for Versailles, sir?"
"I think so. The king is not pleased at being kept waiting. He issure to ask you when you arrived. You had better take one of myhorses. I will order it to be brought round, and shall be at yourquarters by the time you have put on your full uniform."
The king had just returned from hunting when Desmond arrived atthe palace, and gave his name to one of the ushers. Five minuteslater, he was conducted to the king's dressing room.
"This is a serious business, young sir, in which you have beenengaged," the king said shortly to Desmond, as he entered.
"I am aware of that, Sire, and yet I am well assured that everyofficer in Your Majesty's service would have acted as I did, undersimilar circumstances."
"The Baron de Pointdexter has written to us fully on the matter,"the king said, "but we wish to hear the account from your ownlips. When did you return to Paris?"
"But two hours since, Sire."
"Then you have lost no time in presenting yourself here. Now, tellus the whole matter, omitting no detail."
Desmond told the story fully. He was interrupted once by the king.
"How was it that Monsieur de la Vallee's people were at Roanne?"
Desmond then related the fears that he and Philip had entertained,lest the vicomte should make another attempt to carry offMademoiselle Pointdexter, and how, without the baron's knowledge,Philip had sent off a messenger to his intendant for a body of hismen to meet them on the way; how the messenger had beenintercepted and desperately wounded, and how, in consequence,instead of their being met by the party at Nevers, or north ofthat town, they had only reached Roanne after the attack had beenmade on the travellers, near Moulins.
The king asked no more questions, until Desmond finished hisstory.
"You did well, sir," he then said; "and the conduct of the Vicomtede Tulle was outrageous, and we should have visited him with ourheaviest displeasure, had he not already received his deserts. Itis intolerable that a noble gentleman, with his daughter, cannottravel along the highroads of our kingdom without being thusassaulted. It was the more scandalous when the vicomte wasbanished from our court for a similar attempt. The fact that hehad enjoyed our favour would in no degree have mitigated--indeedit would have increased--our anger at his conduct, since it wouldhave seemed as if he had relied upon it for immunity for hisaction. Surely, such a belief would have been an erroneous one.The law must be observed, and the higher placed a man is, the moreis he bound to set an example of obedience to it.
"We thank you, sir, for having thwarted so daring and villainous ascheme. We have not yet sent an answer to the Baron de Pointdexter,because we wished your report of the matter before doing so. Weshall now cause him to be informed of our indignation at the plotagainst his person and that of his daughter, and our satisfactionthat they have escaped from it.
"You have begun your career well, indeed, young sir. Your regimentis about to start for the frontier. We shall direct your colonelto report to us, from time to time, as to your conduct, and shallsee that your promotion is in accordance with your actions, andshall request him to offer you any opportunity that may occur fordistinguishing yourself."
Desmond rode back to Paris well satisfied with the result of theinterview. He had not been slow in noticing that, although theking's approval of his actions had been warmly expressed in words,there was a certain coldness in the tone in which they werespoken, which showed that, although the king's sense of justiceconstrained him to praise, he was at heart sore at the death ofone who had been a favoured companion in his sports andamusements.
On his return, he found his two friends waiting for him, at hisquarters. They gave him a hearty greeting.
"You are a perfect paladin, Kennedy," O'Neil said; "and, though weare all proud of you, we cannot help feeling a little envious thatsuch adventures have all fallen to the lot of our junior ensign.It is evident that, if you were not born with a silver spoon inyour mouth, fortune determined to make up in other ways, by givingyou such chances as do not fall to the lot of anyone else."
"Yes, I thi
nk I have every right to consider myself exceptionallyfortunate."
"You may have been fortunate, Kennedy," O'Sullivan remarked. "Thething is, that you took advantage of the opportunities. You threwyourself into the first adventure that came your way, rescued alovely damsel in distress, and her gratitude and that of herfather attracted the king's notice, and gained that ring on yourfinger. In the next place, after escaping from the ruffians whoattacked the coach--principally, as it seems, by cutting downtheir leader, and so occupying the attention of his followers--youinstantly took the resolution to attempt to rescue him and hisdaughter, and succeeded in doing so. Another man might havestopped at Moulins, congratulating himself that he had escapedfrom the trap, and lamenting that he could do nothing towardsagain rescuing this damsel from her abductors. Of course, it was apiece of good fortune, meeting de la Vallee's men at Roanne; but Ihave no doubt that, if you had not done so, you would still havegot to Pointdexter, gathered a force, and intercepted thevicomte's party."
"It would have been a very near thing, O'Sullivan. Changing horseat every post, I might have got to Pointdexter from Roanne intwenty-four hours; but I doubt whether, even allowing that no timewas lost in getting the men together, I could have got to Tullebefore them. They had but one hundred and fifty miles to travel, Ishould have had still farther; and, as they would have had threedays' start, they should have been there before me; for I heardfrom the baron that, in addition to the four horses in the coach,they had four others, ridden by troopers, fastened to it where theroad was bad."
"What would you have done if they had got to the vicomte'schateau--it is, I believe, a strong place--before you couldintercept them?"
"I cannot say what I should have done. I thought the matter overand over again as we rode. It seemed absurd to think of attackinga chateau with only twelve men; and besides, it would have been avery serious business to assault a noble in his own castle. Therewould almost certainly be twenty or thirty men there, at theleast, and the ringing of the alarm bell would have brought allhis vassals within five miles round to his aid, at once. I have nodoubt that I should have attempted something, but in what way Icould form no idea, until I saw the place."
The two young men laughed.
"I believe that you would have succeeded somehow, Kennedy," O'Neilsaid. "After what you have done, I have an almost unlimited faithin you, and if you told me you could see no other plan thancarrying off His Gracious Majesty, and taking him down to Tulleand forcing him to order this rascal vicomte to deliver up hiscaptives, you would accomplish it."
Desmond laughed.
"The plan might be as good as another, though I own that it hadnot occurred to me; but it would certainly necessitate my havinghim held prisoner until I had got safely out of France, otherwisemy fate would assuredly be to be broken on the wheel."
"Yes; I don't think His Gracious Majesty would have forgiven suchan indignity, even if put upon him for a good purpose. It isalmost treason even to dream of such a thing."
Desmond laughed.
"It was a purely imaginary case; but you see, not having beenaccustomed, as you are, to a country where the king is regardedalmost as a god, I am afraid I have not that awe of him that isgenerally entertained here. I have, naturally, a great respect forthe king whom I serve, and whose pay is a matter of the greatestimportance to me; but after all, although in his service, he isnot my lawful king."
"Then you would not even imagine such a thing as to take yourlawful king, James, prisoner, however much the fate of someone inwhom you were interested was concerned?"
Desmond did not answer at once.
"I don't know," he said at last, "what I should do, in such acase. For King James, as lawful king of my country, I have thedeepest respect, and would freely venture my life in his service;but for him as a man, irrespective of his crown, I own that myadmiration is not extreme, and that I should not hesitate to joinin any plan for putting pressure upon him, on behalf of anyone inwhom I was extremely interested, as I certainly am now inMademoiselle de Pointdexter and Monsieur de la Vallee."
"You are a curious fellow, Kennedy," O'Neil said, with a smile,"and I should be very much puzzled if I were called upon topredict what your fate is likely to be. It seems to me that youhave an equal chance of becoming a French marshal, or being brokenon the wheel. Here you are, not yet seventeen. You have, as Idoubt not, somewhat interfered with the king's plans, and causedhim the loss of one of his personal friends. You have twicerescued a noble lady from the hands of her abductors. You havebrought disgrace and death upon a member of one of the mostpowerful families in France. You have earned the gratitude andfriendship of one of the leading nobles of Southern France, thatof the fiance of his daughter, and of the daughter herself. Assoon as this affair spreads abroad, you will be the object ofgeneral remark and attention. You have rendered the regiment towhich you belong proud of you, its junior ensign, and made Parisemphatically too hot to hold you.
"If all this is done before you are seventeen, what may we expectwhen another ten years have passed over your head?"
"You had better wait for the ten years to pass, O'Neil," Desmondlaughed; "by which time, perhaps, you and O'Sullivan will bothhave learned wisdom, and will see that, because a man happens tohave gone through a very exciting adventure without discredit, itby no means proves him to be anything in the smallest degree outof the way."
