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"I know it; but I wouldn't have licked him on my own account." "Perhaps you wouldn't." "I know I wouldn't. But, I say, Bobby, where do you buy your books?" "At Mr. Bayard's, in Washington Street." "He will sell them to me at the same price, won't he?" "I don't know." "When are you going again?" "Monday." "Won't you let me go with you, Bob?" "Let you?
The man, taken by surprise, changed colour and prevaricated so much that the captain at once took him back to Bayard's lodging. He found his friend just going to bed, but the two sat together over the fire, while the spy was carefully guarded. Hannotin explained why he felt sure that there was something wrong.
It was now that the bridge of boats came into use, and the artillery was first preparing to cross when Captain Pierre du Pont, Bayard's nephew, who was keeping a watch on the enemy, came to tell the company fighting in the market-place: "Gentlemen, retire at once; for above our bridge a number of Swiss are arriving in little boats, ten at a time, and when they have enough men they will enclose us in this city and we shall all be cut to pieces."
Bayard went a step beyond, and said that he would send a man to Richard whom he could trust for the work. The morning following the receipt of Mr. Bayard's message, a foppish, slender young gentleman accosted Richard. "Mr. Storms, I believe?" remarked the foppish stranger, lifting his hat. "Yes, sir; Mr. Storms," said Richard. "Mr.
Bayard's gratitude had something to do with this munificent offer; but he knew that our hero possessed abilities and energy far beyond his years. He further informed Bobby that he should have a room at his house, and that Ellen was delighted with the arrangement he proposed.
If he had ere this entertained any doubts whatever of the ugly grounds for his fears they were now resolved by recognition of Bayard's clumsy ruse to keep him both out of the cab and out of the way, while November and his lieutenants executed their infamous commission.... And all that was now ten fifteen twenty minutes old!
Though my readers would, no doubt, be very much amused to learn how carefully Bobby trod the velvet carpets, how he stared with wonder at the drapery curtains, at the tall mirrors, the elegant chandeliers, and the fantastically shaped chairs and tables that adorned Mr. Bayard's parlor, the length of our story does not permit us to pause over these trivial matters.
"They were taken from my room from my locked trunk the night of Dr. Bayard's dinner, the same night that his porte-monnaie and his beautiful amethyst set were stolen from Mr. Holmes. I did not tell any one at first, because of Mrs.
Bayard's store. But as I have carried my hero through the eventful period of his life, I cannot dwell upon his subsequent career. He applied himself with all the energy of his nature to the discharge of his duties. Early in the morning and late in the evening he was at his post, Mr. Bigelow was his friend from the first, and gave him all the instruction he required.
Some time after, Mary of Hungary asked the Count of Nassau in disdain how it came to pass that with a host of troops and guns he could not take a crazy pigeon-house. "Because," replied the count, "there was an eagle in it." It was Bayard's last great exploit. It had been his lifelong wish that he might fall upon the field of battle. And so it was to be.
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