Meanwhile the prince took De Guiche aside and asked him how the prisoner had been taken and who this young man was.
"Monsieur," said the prince, turning toward Raoul, "I know that you have a letter from my sister, Madame de Longueville; but I see that you have preferred commending yourself to me by giving me good counsel."
"My lord," said Raoul, coloring up, "I did not wish to interrupt your highness in a conversation so important as that in which you were engaged with the count. But here is the letter."
"Very well," said the prince; "give it to me later. Here is the prisoner; let us attend to what is most pressing."
The prisoner was one of those military adventurers who sold their blood to whoever would buy, and grew old in stratagems and spoils. Since he had been taken he had not uttered a word, so that it was not known to what country he belonged.
The prince looked at him with unspeakable distrust.
"Of what country are you?" asked the prince.
The prisoner muttered a few words in a foreign tongue.
"Ah! ah! it seems that he is a Spaniard. Do you speak Spanish, Grammont?"
"Faith, my lord, but indifferently."
"And I not at all," said the prince, laughing. "Gentlemen," he said, turning to those who were near him "can any one of you speak Spanish and serve me as interpreter?"
"I can, my lord," said Raoul.
"Ah, you speak Spanish?"
"Enough, I think, to fulfill your highness's wishes on this occasion."
Meanwhile the prisoner had remained impassive and as if he had no understanding of what was taking place.
"My lord asks of what country you are," said the young man, in the purest Castilian.
"Ich bin ein Deutscher," replied the prisoner.
"What in the devil does he say?" asked the prince. "What new gibberish is that?"
"He says he is German, my lord," replied Raoul; "but I doubt it, for his accent is bad and his pronunciation defective."
"Then you speak German, also?" asked the prince.
"Yes, my lord."
"Well enough to question him in that language?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Question him, then."
Raoul began the examination, but the result justified his opinion. The prisoner did not understand, or seemed not to understand, what Raoul said to him; and Raoul could hardly understand his replies, containing a mixture of Flemish and Alsatian. However, amidst all the prisoner's efforts to elude a systematic examination, Raoul had recognized his natural accent.
"Non siete Spagnuolo," he said; "non siete Tedesco; siete Italiano."
The prisoner started and bit his lips.
"Ah, that," said the prince, "I understand that language thoroughly; and since he is Italian I will myself continue the examination. Thank you, viscount," continued the prince, laughing, "and I appoint you from this moment my interpreter."
But the prisoner was not less unwilling to respond in Italian than in the other languages; his aim was to elude the examination. Therefore, he knew nothing either of the enemy's numbers, or of those in command, or of the purpose of the army.
"Very good," said the prince, understanding the reason of that ignorance; "the man was caught in the act of assassination and robbery; he might have purchased his life by speaking; he doesn't wish to speak. Take him out and shoot him."
The prisoner turned pale. The two soldiers who had brought him in took him, each by one arm, and led him toward the door, whilst the prince, turning to Marshal de Grammont, seemed to have already forgotten the order he had given.
When he reached the threshold of the door the prisoner stopped. The soldiers, who knew only their orders, attempted to force him along.
"One moment," said the prisoner, in French. "I am ready to speak, my lord."
"Ah! ah!" said the prince, laughing, "I thought we should come to that. I have a sure method of limbering tongues.
Young men, take advantage of it against the time when you may be in command."
"But on condition," continued the prisoner, "that your highness will swear that my life shall be safe."
"Upon my honor," said the prince.
"Question, then, my lord."
"Where did the army cross the Lys?"
"Between Saint-Venant and Aire."
"By whom is it commanded?"
"By Count de Fuonsaldagna, General Beck and the archduke."
"Of how many does it consist?"
"Eighteen thousand men and thirty-six cannon."
"And its aim is?"
"Lens."
"You see; gentlemen!" said the prince, turning with a triumphant air toward Marshal de Grammont and the other officers.
"Yes, my lord," said the marshal, "you have divined all that was possible to human genius."
"Recall Le Plessis, Bellievre, Villequier and D'Erlac," said the prince, "recall all the troops that are on this side of the Lys. Let them hold themselves in readiness to march to-night. To-morrow, according to all probability, we shall attack the enemy."
"But, my lord," said Marshal de Grammont, "consider that when we have collected all our forces we shall have hardly thirteen thousand men."
"Monsieur le marechal," said the prince, with that wonderful glance that was peculiar to him, "it is with small armies that great battles are won."
Then turning toward the prisoner, "Take away that man," he said, "and keep him carefully in sight. His life is dependent on the information he has given us; if it is true, he shall be free; if false, let him be shot."
The prisoner was led away.
"Count de Guiche," said the prince, "it is a long time since you saw your father, remain here with him. Monsieur," he continued, addressing Raoul, "if you are not too tired, follow me."
"To the end of the world, my lord!" cried Raoul, feeling an unknown enthusiasm for that young general, who seemed to him so worthy of his renown.
The prince smiled; he despised flatterers, but he appreciated enthusiasts.
"Come, monsieur," he said, "you are good in council, as we have already discovered; to-morrow we shall know if you are good in action."
"And I," said the marshal, "what am I to do?"
