"Chevalier," said Luxembourg with his most bland smile, "it is pleasant to reward the brave. Aware that the repulse of the confederate cavalry on my right flank, and consequently the whole success of that glorious day at Steinkirke was mainly owing to the valour of the Scottish cavaliers animated by your example, King Louis sends you this." And taking from his own neck the sparkling cross of the recently created order of St. Louis, the Duke placed it around the neck of Walter Fenton, who bowed his thanks in silence.
"Go, Chevalier--you are a gallant soldier! The Scots were ever brave, and the friends of France. Wear that cross with honour to the Most Christian King, to your native country--"
"And to the most sublime Madame Maintenon," said the young Duke, and his gay companions laughed.
"Monseigneur!" said Luxembourg warningly.
"Tête Dieu, Mareschal! dost think I fear her? Faith Madame, 'tis known, never gives a favour without a most usurious per centage. She is quite a Jewess in the intrigues of love and politics, ha! ha!"
"Attached to this cross, Chevalier, is a pension of four hundred livres yearly, which I doubt not will be acceptable in your present reduced circumstances."
"Oh, believe me, Monseigneur le Mareschal, and you most noble Dukes, it is indeed most acceptable; for with it I may in some sort alleviate the miseries of those gallant gentlemen, my comrades, who share your fortunes in the field."
"By St. Denis, you are a gallant fellow!" cried Luxembourg with kindling eyes, "Your generosity equals your courage. But this must not be. Messieurs your comrades must take the will for the deed. This night you must depart for the Court of St. Germain-en-laye, where King James requires your immediate attendance. My Secretary will supply you with money, and my Master of the Horse with a charger--adieu, Sir, and God be with you!"
That night he bade a sad adieu to his comrades, and, mounted on one of the Mareschal's horses, departed from Courtray.
His brave companions in glory and exile he saw no more. After all their services and their sufferings, their achievements and their chivalry, the few survivors of the war, sixteen in number, were, by a striking example of French ingratitude, disbanded at the peace of Ryswick, on the upper part of the Rhine, far from their native land--without money or any provision to save them from starvation and death. Of these sixteen only _four_ survived to return to Scotland in extreme old age, when all fears of the Jacobites had passed away for ever.