"Now, Pierre," I exclaimed, "tell me the story quickly, in as few words
as possible."

"First then, monsieur," began the old man in his quavering voice, "it is
useless going to the castle, as it is shut up."

"The castle shut up!" I cried in astonishment. "Well, go on with the
story; it promises plenty of interest."

"Shortly after your departure, monsieur, many rumours spread abroad.
Some said one thing, some mother; but no one knew the truth. Then, one
night, your father sent for me to the castle. He ordered me to watch
for your return, and to tell you he had gone to Rochelle. Not another
word, monsieur, except that you were to join him, and to keep out of the
way of the king's troops."

"This is strange news!" I said.

"Your father must have gone away that night, monsieur, for next day the
castle was deserted. And it was well he did not stay longer," the old
man concluded, with a wise shake of the head.

"Why?" I asked anxiously.

"The next night, monsieur, we were roused from sleep by the tramping of
soldiers. I ran to the window and looked out. There were more than two
hundred of them marching through the village. On arriving at the castle,
they found they were too late. Their leader was very angry; he raved
like a madman."