all through the journey it came naturally that he should
be the entire manager, and Berenger the paymaster on a liberal scale.

Thus had the travellers reached the neighbourhood of Paris, when a
jingling of chains and a trampling of horses announced the advance of
riders, and several gentlemen with a troop of servants came in sight.

All were gaily dressed, with feathered hats, and short Spanish cloaks
jauntily disposed over one shoulder; and their horses were trapped with
bright silvered ornaments. As they advanced, the Chevalier
exclaimed: 'Ah! It is my son! I knew he would come to meet me.' And,
simultaneously, father and son leapt from their horses, and rushed
into each other's arms. Berenger felt it only courteous to dismount and
exchange embraces with his cousin, but with a certain sense of repulsion
at the cloud of perfume that seemed to surround the younger Chevalier
de Ribaumont; the ear-rings in his ears; the general air of delicate
research about his riding-dress, and the elaborate attention paid to a
small, dark, sallow face and figure, in which the only tolerable feature
was an intensely black and piercing pair of eyes.

'Cousin, I am enchanted to welcome you.'

'Cousin, I thank you.'

'Allow me to present you.' And Berenger bowed low in succession several
times in reply to salutations, as his cousin Narcisse named M. d'O, M.
de la Valette, M. de Pibrac, M. l'Abbe de Mericour, who had done him
the honour to accompany him in coming out to meet his father and M.
le Baron. Then the two cousins remounted, something was said to the
Chevalier of the devoirs of the demoiselles, and they rode on together
bandying news and repartee so fast, that Berenger felt that his ears
had become too much accustomed to the more deliberate English speech to
enter at once into what caused so much excitement, gesture, and wit. The
royal marriage seemed doubtful--the Pope refused his sanction; nay, but
means would be found--the King would not be impeded by the Pope;
Spanish influence--nay, the King had thrown himself at the head of the
Reformed--he was bewitched with the grim old Coligny--if order were not
soon taken, the Louvre itself would become a temple.

Then one of the party turned suddenly and said, 'But I forget, Monsieur
is a Huguenot?'

'I am a Protestant of the English Church,' said Berenger, rather
stiffly, in the formula of his day.

'Well, you have come at the right moment, 'Tis all for the sermon now.
If the