as in his case there was none of the hostile feeling with
which the French officers were regarded. His youth, and the singularity
of his having so soon attained the rank of colonel, also predisposed
them in his favour. It was evident that this young soldier of fortune,
unsupported by powerful family interest, must have distinguished himself
in an altogether exceptional manner to have obtained the command of one
of the best regiments of France.

Paolo was as popular among the sergeants and men as his master was with
the officers. As an Italian, and as Hector's lackey, he was not regarded
as a prisoner of war; and by his unfailing good humour, his readiness to
enter into any fun that might be going on, or to lend a hand in cleaning
accoutrements or completing a job that a soldier had left unfinished
when his turn came for duty, he became quite a popular character. The
colonel who commanded frequently walked with Hector in the courtyard,
sent him dishes from his own table, and more than once invited him to
dine with him. As he was very curious to learn how his young prisoner
had so early attained his rank, Hector one evening gave him a sketch of
his career, from the time when Turenne gave him his commission to
that at which he was taken prisoner, omitting only the incident of the
attempt to assassinate Mazarin.

"You have certainly been fortunate," he said, "but it is equally certain
that you have deserved it. The fact that, in addition to your military
duties, you have learned Italian and German, besides transforming a
newly raised regiment into one of the best in the French service, shows
how assiduous you have been in your work. I trust that when the campaign
is over you may be exchanged, and I think it is foolish of you not to
give me your parole, for you must know well that you have no chance of
escape from here."

"They say everything comes to those who wait, colonel," Hector laughed,
"and if I see a chance I shall certainly avail myself of it. Even if no
such chance comes I shall still be a gainer by not giving my parole. I
am exceedingly comfortable as it is, and can wish for nothing better.
The one drawback is that I have nothing to do, except perhaps to improve
my German, and it would be just the same if I were living in the town.
But if I were on my parole I should lose the amusement of planning
methods for escape, which I do unceasingly; but up till now, I may tell
you in confidence, I am as far from having h