“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?”

“Wait here to receive the troops.  I shall either return for them myself or shall send a courier directing you to bring them to me.  Twenty guards, well mounted, are all that I shall need for my escort.”

“That is very few,” said the marshal.

“It is enough,” replied the prince.  “Have you a good horse, Monsieur de Bragelonne?”

“My horse was killed this morning, my lord, and I am mounted provisionally on my lackey’s.”

“Choose for yourself in my stables the horse you like best.  No false modesty; take the best horse you can find.  You will need it this evening, perhaps; you will certainly need it to-morrow.”

Raoul didn’t wait to be told twice; he knew that with superiors, especially when those superiors are princes, the highest politeness is to obey without delay or argument; he went down to the stables, picked out a pie-bald Andalusian horse, saddled and bridled it himself, for Athos had advised him to trust no one with those important offices at a time of danger, and went to rejoin the prince, who at that moment mounted his horse.

“Now, monsieur,” he said to Raoul, “will you give me the letter you have brought?”

Raoul handed the letter to the prince.