Produced by Juliet Sutherland Mary Meehan and PG Distributed Proofreaders                          AN ENEMY TO THE KING     From the recently discovered memoirs of the Sieur de la Tournoire                       By Robert Neilson StephensAuthor of The Continental Dragoon The Road to Paris PhilipWinwood etc                                  1897CONTENTSI     TWO ENCOUNTERS BY NIGHTII    LOVEMAKING AT SHORT ACQUAINTANCEIII   THE STRANGE REQUEST OF MLLE DARENCYIV    HOW LA TOURNOIRE WAS ENLIGHTENED IN THE DARKV     HOW LA TOURNOIRE ESCAPED FROM PARISVI    HOW HE FLED SOUTHWARDVII   HOW HE ANNOYED MONSIEUR DE LA CHATREVIII  A SWEET LADY IN DISTRESSIX    THE FOUR RASCALSX     A DISAPPEARANCEXI    HOW THE HERO GAVE HIS WORD AND KEPT ITXII   AT THE CHÂTEAU OF MAURYXIII  HOW DE BERQUIN INVITED DEATHXIV   GOD GRANT I DO NOT FIND YOU FALSEXV    TO CLOCHONNE AFTER MADEMOISELLEXVI   BEHIND THE CURTAINSXVII  SWORD AND DAGGERXVIII THE RIDE TOWARDS GUIENNEAN ENEMY TO THE KINGCHAPTER ITWO ENCOUNTERS BY NIGHTHitherto I have written with the sword after the fashion of greater menand requiring no secretary I now take up the quill to set forthcorrectly certain incidents which having been noised about stand indanger of being inaccurately reported by some imitator of Brantome and DelEstoile If all the world is to know of this matter let it knowthereof rightlyIt was early in January in the year 1578 that I first set out forParis My mother had died when I was twelve years old and my father hadfollowed her a year later It was his last wish that I his only childshould remain at the château in Anjou continuing my studies until theend of my twentyfirst year He had chosen that I should learn manners asbest I could at home not as page in some great household or as gentlemanin the retinue of some high personage A De Launay shall have no masterbut God and the King he said Reverently I had fulfilled hisinjunctions holding my young impulses in leash I passed the time insword practice with our old steward Michel who had followed my fatherin the wars under Coligny in hunting in our little patch of woodsreading the Latin authors in the flowery garden of the château or in myfavorite chamberthat one at the top of the new tower which had beenbuilt in the reign of Henri II to replace the original black tower fromwhich the earliest De Launay of note got the title of Sieur de laTournoire All this while I was holding in curb my impatient desires Soalmost resistless are the forces that impel the young heart that theremust have been a hard struggle within me had I had to wait even a monthlonger for the birthday which finally set me free to go what ways Ichose I rose early on that cold but sunlit January day mad witheagerness to be off and away into the great world that at last lay opento me Poor old Michel was sad that I had decided to go alone But theonly servant whom I would have taken with me was the only one to whom Iwould entrust the house of my fathers in my absenceold Michel himselfI thought the others too rustic My few tenants would have made awkwardlackeys in peace sorry soldiers in warMichel had my portmanteau fastened on my horse which had been broughtout into the courtyard and then he stood by me while I took my lastbreakfast in La Tournoire and in my haste to be off I would haveeaten little had he not pressed much upon me reminding me how manyleagues I would have to ride before meeting a good inn on the Parisroad He was sad poor old Michel at my going and yet he partook ofsome of my own eagerness At last I had forced down my unwilling throatfood enough to satisfy even old Michels solicitude He girded on me thefinest of the swords that my father had left placed over my violetvelvet doublet the new cloak I had bought for the occasion handed me mynew hat with its showy plumes and stood aside for me to pass out Inthe pocket of my red breeches was a purse holding enough golden crownsto ease my path for some time to come I cast one last look around theold hall and trying to check the rapidity of my breath and the risingof the lump in my throat strode out to the courtyard breathed thefresh air with a new ecstasy mounted the steaming horse gave Michel myhand for a moment and purposely avoiding meeting his eyes spoke alast kind word to the old man After acknowledging the farewells of theother servants who stood in line trying to look joyous I started myhorse with a little jerk of the rein and was borne swiftly through theporte over the bridge and out into the world Behind me was the homeof my fathers and my childhood before me was Paris It was a finebracing winter morning and I was twentyone A good horse was under mea sword was at my side there was money in my pocket Will I ever feelagain as I did that morningSome have stupidly wondered why being a Huguenot born and bred I didnot when free to leave La Tournoire go at once to offer my sword toHenri of Navarre or to some other leader of our party This is easilyanswered If