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Updated: May 19, 2025
L'Estang may have something of importance to tell me." "He could have written it," said Jacques. "I don't like this journey. These assassins are on the watch. One messenger killed, and the next shot at we can be sure they won't let you pass free." "There are three of us," I replied lightly "you and I and L'Estang's courier, and he seems well able to take care of himself.
"And may that be soon!" I exclaimed warmly. A Warning from L'Estang The hour being late when we reached Le Blanc, Jacques proposed that we should put up at the inn. Old Pierre came bustling out with a hearty welcome; the horses were stabled, a room was prepared, and by the time we had removed the traces of our journey Pierre brought in a substantial and appetising supper.
"Nothing," I replied with a forced laugh; "I am foolish; that is all." Yes, there was my name in crabbed letters; I glanced from it to the foot of the page: the letter was signed, "Renaud L'Estang." "L'Estang!" I muttered, "L'Estang! Why, that is the name of my adventurer. Of course he is with Anjou; but why should he write to me?
"It is plain the lawyer knows he has this L'Estang to fight against; but 'tis a pity your friend does not give a hint of what is in progress. He might, for instance, have sent a description of Cordel's tools." "Very probably he did. You forget that this letter only supplements the first one." "Yes," said Jacques, adding, "will you go to Poictiers, monsieur?" "I must.
I obtained little sleep that night; spending the hours tossing restlessly, turning from side to side, wondering what the danger was which had induced L'Estang to give this indirect but ominous warning. As soon as the household began to stir, I rose and dressed, eager to seek an interview with Coligny.
And, terrible as it might seem, there were those in the city who would scout the idea that Renaud L'Estang had risked his life solely to visit his dying mother. "He is a spy," they would declare hotly; "let him die a spy's death!" "It is not my fault," I said to myself angrily; "he has lost; he must pay forfeit!" "A dying woman blesses you, and surely the saints will reward you!"
A Royal Marriage I should probably have worried myself considerably over the strange story related by Renaud L'Estang, but for the public events which occurred almost immediately. On the very next morning we received orders from the Admiral to be prepared to escort Henry of Navarre into the capital.
"Shall we go back and ask him to write down his reasons for the change?" asked L'Estang; but the officer was already giving instructions for the opening of the gate, and in a few minutes we were outside the walls. Farewell France! "The danger is over!" exclaimed my companion as we left the city behind us; "lean back on the cushions and try to sleep."
I expected to see a ruffian with a blood-red pike; my visitor was a pale but pretty woman, carrying a bowl of soup. "Drink this, monsieur," she said, "it will give you strength. Renaud will return in the evening." "Renaud!" I exclaimed, "do you mean Renaud L'Estang? Do I owe my life to him?" "He is a brave man," she answered, "he saved your life at the risk of his own; but I must go again.
It might have been that he guessed something of the thoughts passing through my mind, for he exclaimed suddenly, "There is one thing I would say, monsieur. This massacre is none of my seeking, and through it all my sword has never left the scabbard except in your defence. The mercy once shown to me I have shown again." "You are a good fellow, L'Estang," I murmured, "and I thank you."
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