Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/222

 thrust and parry, ten against two, one cannot stand on these little delicacies of feeling. As I vanished through the garden-gate I looked for you everywhere, but there was no time to lose, and I thought we could escape more easily separate than in company. I knew you were neither down nor taken, because there was no shout of triumph from the men to announce the fact. The Prince du Chateau-Guerrand, my old general, was standing at the door of his coach when I gained the street. How he came there I am at a loss to guess, for you may believe I asked no questions; but that you and he should have dropped from the clouds at the Hôtel Montmirail, in the moment of my need, is one of those happy strokes of accident by which battles are won, and which we call fortune of war. I thought him a martinet when I was on his staff, with his everlasting parades, and reports, and correspondence, to say nothing of his interminable stories about Turenne, but I always knew his heart was in the right place. 'Jump in!' said he, catching me by the arm. 'Drive those English horses to death, and take the coach where you will!' In five minutes we were out of Paris, and half a league off on our way to the coast.

"I hope the English horses may have survived the journey, but they brought me to my first relay as fast as ever I went in the saddle, and I knew that with half an hour's start of everything I was safe. Who was to question a Captain of King's Musketeers riding post for England on the Regent's business? The relays were even so good that I had time to stop and breakfast comfortably, at leisure, and to feed my horse, half-way through the longest stage.

"I had little delay when I reached the Channel. The wind was easterly, and before my horse had done shaking himself on the quay, an honest fellow had put his two sons, a spare oar, and a keg of brandy, on board a shallop about as weatherly as an egg-shell, hoisted a sail the size of a pocket-handkerchief, and stood out manfully with a following wind and an ebb tide. I know the Channel well, and I was as sure as he must have been that the wind would change when the tide turned, and we should be beating about, perhaps in a stiffish breeze, all night. It was not