ce Henry may truly vaunt that he will die king of
Spain, cost him what it may, if he but lend me half my ransom, and the
king of France the other. If I can neither go nor send to these two, I
will get all the spinstresses in France to spin it, rather than that I
should remain longer in your hands."

"What sort of man is this?" said the prince, aside to his lords. "He is
startled by nothing, either in act or thought; no more than if he had
all the gold in the world. He has set himself at sixty thousand double
florins, when I would have willingly accepted ten thousand."

The barons talked among one another, lost in astonishment. Bertrand
stood aside, his eyes fixed quietly upon the prince.

"Am I then at liberty?" he asked.

"Whence shall the money come?" queried Chandos.

"Trust me to find it," said Bertrand. "I have good friends."

"By my faith," answered Chandos, heartily, "you have one of them here.
If you need my help, thus much I say: I will lend you ten thousand."

"You have my thanks," answered Bertrand. "But before accepting your
offer, I will try the people of my own country."

The confidence of the gallant soldier was not misplaced. Part of the sum
was raised among his Breton friends, and King Charles V. of France lent
him thirty thousand Spanish doubloons. In the beginning of 1368 the
Prince of Wales set him at liberty.

The remaining story of the life of Du Guesclin is a stirring and
interesting one. War was the only trade he knew, and he plunged boldly
into it. First he joined the Duke of Anjou, who was warring in Provence
against Queen Joan of Naples. Then he put his sword again at the service
of Henry of Transtamare, who was at war once more with Pedro the Cruel,
and whom he was soon to dethrone and slay with his own hand. But shortly
afterwards war broke out again between France and England, and Charles
V. summoned Du Guesclin to Paris.

The king's purpose was to do the greatest honor to the poor but proud
soldier. He offered him the high office of Constable of
France,--commander-in-chief of the army and the first dignitary under
the crown. Du Guesclin prayed earnestly to be excused, but the king
insisted, and he in the end felt obliged to yield. The poor Breton had
now indeed risen to high estate. The king set him beside himself at
table, showed him the deepest affection, and showered on him gifts and
estates. His new wealth the free-handed soldier dispensed lavishly,
giving numerous and sumpt