I think Holt loved to make a parade of mystery, as it were, and would appear and disappear at our quarters as suddenly as he used to return and vanish in the old days at Castlewood.  He had passes between both armies, and seemed to know (but with that inaccuracy which belonged to the good Father’s omniscience) equally well what passed in the French camp and in ours.  One day he would give Esmond news of a great feste that took place in the French quarters, of a supper of Monsieur de Rohan’s, where there was play and violins, and then dancing and masques; the King drove thither in Marshal Villars’ own guinguette.  Another day he had the news of his Majesty’s ague:  the King had not had a fit these ten days, and might be said to be well.  Captain Holtz made a visit to England during this time, so eager was he about negotiating prisoners; and ’twas on returning from this voyage that he began to open himself more to Esmond, and to make him, as occasion served, at their various meetings, several of those confidences which are here set down all together.

The reason of his increased confidence was this:  upon going to London, the old director of Esmond’s aunt, the dowager, paid her ladyship a visit at Chelsey, and there learnt from her that Captain Esmond was acquainted with the secret of his family, and was determined never to divulge it.  The knowledge of this fact raised Esmond in his old tutor’s eyes, so Holt was pleased to say, and he admired Harry very much for his abnegation.

“The family at Castlewood have done far more for me than my own ever did,” Esmond said.  “I would give my life for them.  Why should I grudge the only benefit that ’tis in my power to confer on them?” The good Father’s eyes filled with tears at this speech, which to the other seemed very simple:  he embraced Esmond, and broke out into many admiring expressions; he said he was a noble coeur, that he was proud of him, and fond of him as his pupil and friend—­regretted more than ever that he had lost him, and been forced to leave him in those early times, when he might have had an influence over him, have brought him into that only true church to which the Father belonged, and enlisted him in the noblest army in which a man ever engaged—­meaning his own society of Jesus, which numbers (says he) in its troops the greatest heroes the world ever knew;—­warriors brave enough to dare or endure anything, to encounter any odds, to die any death—­soldiers that have won triumphs a thousand times more brilliant than those of the greatest general; that have brought nations on their knees to their sacred banner, the Cross; that have achieved glories and palms incomparably brighter than those awarded to the most splendid earthly conquerors—­crowns of immortal light, and seats in the high places of heaven.