sacre Cavalier, as they have so many others."
"Why a pity?" exclaimed the priest hastily, "what else then does the rebel deserve? perhaps you are also a follower of the new doctrine?" "No, reverend sir," said the huntsman, "I was one of the very first that was converted by these gentlemen dragoons. They came in the name of the king, and—of him whose bread I eat, whose song I sing—they were not particularly gentle; thirty in the village were massacred: 'Dog,' said they, 'the pure faith, or die!' 'why so harsh?' said I, 'I am not at all prejudiced against the creed, only you might have enforced it with a little more gentleness.' When I saw the execrable manoeuvre, my resolution was quickly formed, and I am now in the service of a right zealous catholic master, the Intendant of Basville. I only mean that it is a pity for Cavalier for he is a good fellow, and has already puzzled many a brave officer."
"That is very true," said the priest a
