“No, monsieur, nothing,” he replied.

“How much farther do we go before descending?”

“About a quarter of a mile.”

“Once across the river we shall be in no danger at all.”

“None at all, monsieur.”

“A plague on you, Jacques!” I cried, “can’t you make some sensible remark?”

“I was but agreeing with monsieur.”

We had gone about four hundred yards when the track began to descend in winding fashion toward the water.  My companion was still in front, and I noticed he had loosened his sword.  I had done the same, and in addition had seen that my pistols were in order.  Somehow, a strange sense of approaching peril, for which I could not account, hung about me.

“There is the ford,” said Jacques, drawing rein, and pointing straight ahead of him.  “That is where we must cross.”

“Yes,” I said.

“But I cannot see the horsemen, and they should be visible from here.  It is very absurd, of course, but still, I would advise monsieur to look to his pistols.”

“I am ready, Jacques.”

“Come, then, and if I say ‘Gallop!’ stretch your horse to his utmost.”

He advanced carefully, I following, and watching him intently.  Presently, without turning round, he said:  “It is as I thought; the horsemen are there; we cannot get through without a fight.”

“Then we must fight, Jacques; it is impossible to turn back.  They will not expect a rush, and we may catch them off their guard.  But it will be amusing if they turn out to be simply peaceful travellers.”

“Amusing and satisfactory, monsieur.  Are you ready?  We will ride abreast at the bottom; it will give us greater strength.”

Jacques was a splendid horseman, and he had taught me to ride almost from the first day I could sit a horse’s back.  From him, too, as well as from my father, I had learned how to use a sword, though my weapon had never yet been drawn in actual conflict, and even now I hoped against hope that the horsemen below were not waiting for us.

But if Jacques’ view were correct, then we must fight.  Because of the trust reposed in me, I could not yield; either I must win a way through, or leave my dead body there on the bank.

My companion’s voice recalled me to action.  “Fire your pistol directly we come within range,” he said, “and then lay on with the sword.”

“But we must give them warning, Jacques!”

“It is needless; they have seen us, and are preparing. Corbleu! it is as I thought!  See, there is the man who overtook us in the village.  Monsieur, there is no escape; it is a fight to the death!”

“I am ready!”

CHAPTER III

The Fight by the Way

They watched us furtively, as, with seeming carelessness, we descended the slope, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the pace as the ground became less steep.  There were five of them in all, and presently I perceived that the one a little in advance of the group was the unknown cavalier whom we had directed to the house of Etienne Cordel.