Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War by G. A. Henty (summer beach reads .txt) 📗

piled up against them. As to the other half, I told my intendant not to press any whom he thought could not pay, and that if he drew enough to pay his own salary and the wages of the retainers I should be content—for my pay as colonel is ample for my own wants.”

“You are very young to be a colonel, Monsieur Campbell,” the baroness said.

“Very young; but I have had singularly good fortune, and have been happy enough to please both Marshal Turenne and the Duc d'Enghien.”

“And you have served under them both?” she said in surprise.

“I have had that good fortune. I was with Turenne for nearly four years in Italy, and fought under Enghien at Rocroi, and I may say under both of them at Freiburg.”

“What is the name of your regiment, monsieur?”

“The Poitou regiment.”

“Indeed!” she exclaimed. “Of course, we have heard all the particulars of the battle; and it was said that General Merci would have beaten Monsieur Turenne back had it not been for the Poitou regiment, commanded by a Scottish colonel, and said to be the finest under the command of the French generals. They say it stood for three hours against the attacks of the whole Bavarian army.”

“We were in a strong position,” Hector said quietly, “at the mouth of a defile, so that no more than our own numbers could attack us at once. However, I am proud of the conduct of my men; none could have fought more steadily than they did.”

“My husband was killed in the battle against Enghien's army on the hill. I am glad that it was not by your regiment, monsieur.”

“I am glad too, madam.”

“These wars are terrible, and we of Lorraine—lying between France and Germany—suffer whichever wins. Fortunately we lie at a distance from the roads that the armies follow, and therefore have escaped the devastation caused all along the line of march. Nevertheless we have the sadness of knowing that in the field neighbours must fight against neighbours, and kinsmen against kinsmen, for since the duke fled many of our nobles, seeing that the country has now become part of France, have joined her, while others, like my husband, followed the duke into Germany. However, as an Irishwoman it matters little to me now which is the victor.”

“Do you think of returning home, madam?”

“As to that, I have not yet made up my mind. The land there is as distracted as is France by civil war. It is sixteen years since I left Ireland with my husband, a few months after our marriage. I was an orphan, and have no near relations to whom I can go, therefore it matters little to me whether I live in France or Ireland, so that I can see some way of earning my own living and that of my daughter. With economy, the sale of the silver would suffice to keep us for three or four years, and long before that I hope that I shall be able in some way to earn my living.”

Hector sat silent for two or three minutes. “It seems to me, madam,” he said at last, “that it would be better that you should not spend the proceeds of your silver before looking for a post. I can offer you one at once, if you will accept it.”

“You, monsieur!” she exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes, madam. It is bad for the vassals and tenants of a noble—even though a newly made one, and on an estate of moderate dimensions—when their lord is absent, and there is none to look after them save an intendant, whose duty it is to collect as much rent as he is able. Such is the position of my tenants. I am a soldier, and must perforce be absent. What I need greatly is someone who will fill my place in this respect. I have an old friend who is captain of the garrison, and sees to all things in the household; I have an intendant, I believe a worthy young man, who collects my rents and looks to the feeding and needs of the servants and garrison; but I need someone who would interest herself actively in the condition of my tenants, who would be a friend to them in sickness, would give aid from my purse to those who really need it, would send food to the starving, and aid my intendant by advising him as to who are worthy of relief and who are suffering from their own idleness or thriftlessness—who will, in short, act as I would have my wife act had I one.

“Now, madame la baronne if you will honour me by making my home yours so long as I am away at the wars, which may last, for aught I know, for years yet, you will be conferring a great favour upon me. You will have your own suite of apartments, where your meals will be served to you. You will have horses to ride. You will relieve my intendant of the necessity of seeing that the servants perform their duties, and give him more time to devote himself to the business of the estate, and will in fact act as chatelaine, save only in matters connected with the garrison in the defence of the castle.”

“Your offer is kind in the extreme, Colonel Campbell, but I could not accept it,” she said. “You are only inventing such an office in order to give a home to me and Norah.”

“I can assure you, madam, that the thought is not a new one to me—I have often wished that there was a lady in the castle. One who would see after the wives and families of the vassals; and I should feel myself under a real obligation to you if you would fill the place. You see, madam, it would cost me nothing, for food and drink there is in abundance. I have two splendid horses, given me by the Duc d'Enghien, standing idle in their stalls. I shall be happy in knowing that my tenants would be well looked after, and shall be glad indeed that you and your daughter, my countrywomen, should, for the present at any rate, have a home.”

The tears were streaming down the lady's face.

“Accept, mother,” the girl said, putting her hand on her shoulder. “Surely God sent this gentleman to our rescue when we were very near death. Why should we not accept this fresh kindness at his hands?”

Her mother looked up. “My daughter has chosen for me, Colonel Campbell. I accept your offer with the deepest thankfulness. Were I to refuse now, the time might come when I should be reduced to such straits that for my daughter's sake I should bitterly regret that I had refused your generous offer; therefore I accept it, and thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“I do not wish you to see it in that light,” he said with a smile. “At best it is but an arrangement for our mutual advantage, and I, on my part, thank you and mademoiselle most heartily for falling in with my wishes.”