ing recovered from this fervent ecstasy, he continued: "And if not
family interest--I am a believer in family interest myself--what can
it be? Unless, of course, you have been selected because of your
military promise."

"Nor can it be that either," replied the guest. "I have been in
garrison at Pontarlier for a year, and as for my service, why I have
done nothing to distinguish myself. No more than thousands of his
Majesty's troops have done--nay, not half so much."

"How old are you, may I ask?"

"Thirty-three."

"Ah," replied monseigneur, "and this is the third day of '88. So you
were born in 1655. Ah!" and he leaned back in his chair and muttered
to himself, though once he said quite audibly: "Yes, yes. That would
do very well."

"What would do very well, monseigneur?" asked the other, looking at
him.

"Pardon me," replied the bishop, and St. Georges could not help
remarking how much more courtly his manner had become by degrees, so
that, while heretofore it was quite in keeping with what he had
originally imagined him to be--a servitor--it was now thoroughly
suitable to his position--the position of a member of an old French
family and of a father of the Church; "pardon me, my mind rambles
sometimes when--when I throw it back. I was reflecting that--that--it
was in that year I was made bishop. So you were born in 1655? And
how--since you say you have none of that valuable family interest--did
you become a _chevau-leger_?"

"It is somewhat of a story, and a long one. Hark! surely that is the
cathedral clock striking. It is too late to pester you with my
affairs."

"Not a jot," exclaimed Phelypeaux--"not a jot. Nay, tell the story,
and--shall we crack another bottle of the clos? It is good wine."

"It is, indeed," replied St. Georges, "excellent. Yet I will drink no
more. Three glasses are all I allow myself after supper at the best of
times. And, after all, my history will not take long in telling. At
least such portions of it as I need tell you."

"Tell me all. I love to hear the history of the young and adventurous,
as you are--as you must be. The _chevaux-legers_ encounter adventure
even in garrison," and he leered at him.

"I have encountered none, or very few. A few indecisive campaigns
against Holland in the year the king gave me my commission--namely,
fourteen years ago--then the Peace of Nimeguen, and since then
stagnation in various garrisons. Yet they say the time is coming for
war. Holland