The next day my comrades, who purposely stayed away on the previous
evening, accompanied me home, and were made much of by my mother and
Jeanne.

These occasional visits were like oases in a dreary desert. We tried to
banish all thoughts of the war, and to talk as cheerfully as if there
were no misery in the land. But for Felix and me these days of happy
idleness speedily came to an end. There was much to be done, and Coligny
needed our services. Instead of being cast down by his reverse at
Montcontour, our leader was already planning a gigantic scheme which
should help to repair our broken fortunes.

Meanwhile the garrison at St. Jean d'Angely was offering a splendid
resistance to the enemy. Anjou was pressing the siege with vigour, King
Charles himself was in the trenches--I never held, as some of my
comrades did, that the king was a coward--but the handful of troops
defied the royal brothers and all their force.

One morning as our chief came from his chamber, the ante-room being
filled with his gentlemen and the leaders of the army, he stopped and
laid his hand with a kindly touch on my shoulder.

"My young friend," he said, "we are all proud of your father. The
reports from St. Jean d'Angely declare that he is the very heart of the
defence."

"I thank you, my lord, for your kind words," I stammered, blushing
crimson with pride, for to hear my father thus honoured was far sweeter
than any praise of myself could have been.