From the oak to the spot where our horses were tethered was close upon fifty paces, and never, I think, was ground covered at a speedier rate by men running for their lives. I was bursting with anger, and know not what restrained me from pistolling Nicholas, so furious was I at the blind folly of the man. As we reached the horses, we could hear the dogs splashing through the spill-water at the edge of the lake, and someone fired a third shot at us from horseback – a shot in the dark which whistled through the branches overhead.

'Quick! quick, monsieur! 'gasped Nicholas, and with a turn of his hand he freed Couronne, and sprang to her back – the great mare standing steady as a rock.

'Quick!' he called out again more loudly, and I made a vain effort to loosen my beast, which, startled by the shots, the baying of the dogs, and our haste and hurry, plunged and kicked as though it were demented.

'Damn you!' I hissed, half at the horse, half at the crop-eared idiot who had caused this disaster, and, managing somehow to scramble to the saddle, cut the halter with a draw of my dagger. At this moment the dogs reached us; a dark object sprang up from the ground, and, fastening on the jaws of my horse, brought him to his knees, whilst the other beast flew at my companion. Nicholas' pistol rang out to no purpose, the report was echoed by a chorus of shouts from the troopers following us, and Couronne, swinging round, lashed out with her heels at the hound that was baying her. Leaning forward with one arm half round the neck of my snorting horse, I thrust twice at the hound hanging to him, the first time sliding off his metal collar, but at the second blow my blade slipped to the hilt into something soft, it seemed of its own accord, and as the dead dog fell suddenly back, bearing my poniard with it, my freed horse rose to its feet, and mad with pain dashed forwards into the teeth of our pursuers. I let him go – one might as well have tried to stop the rush of a mad bull. By a miracle I escaped being torn off by the overhanging branches, and as we raced into the open, Nicholas at my heels shouting 'To the north! to the north!' we were not twenty paces away from the troopers. My frantic horse went straight at them, and, driving my spurs home, I made him leap at the foremost horseman. His animal swerved off – a piece of good luck for both of us. Then my pistol missed fire, and I was in the midst of them. The quarters were so close, and the confusion so great, that at first only those on the outside could use their weapons, and in their hurry to do so some of these perhaps struck at each other. One man, however, shortened his sword, and would have run me through had I not luckily seen the flash of the blade and given him the heavy iron-bound butt of my pistol on the forehead. He was probably much hurt, but although he lurched backwards senseless, so close was the press that he was held in his saddle. The butt of the pistol was broken off by the blow, and for the moment I was disarmed. I dared not call out to Nicholas for fear of being recognised; but at this juncture horse and man on my right seemed to be dashed to earth, and Nicholas was at my elbow, striking right and left with the heavy hilt of his sword. Profiting by the relief, I drew out my second pistol and shot the man before me. Pressing against his mount with my brave little nag, who was now in hand again, I got clear, and, with a shout to Nicholas to follow, dashed off towards the north. It was at this moment that three other riders galloped up, and I heard de Gomeron call out, 'Sangdieu! They are off. After them, dogs,' and clapping spurs to his beast he rode after us. We had, however, gained a full twenty yards' start, which was more than trebled by the few seconds' delay before the troopers could recover themselves and follow. My horse was going at racing pace; but Couronne kept by his side with a long and effortless stride. De Gomeron was at our heels, and with a sudden rush ranged alongside of Nicholas. The sergeant possibly did not recognise his assailant, and managed somehow to parry the cut aimed at him, and the next moment de Gomeron's horse stumbled and went down; but the man himself, who was a rare horseman, fell on his feet like a cat. It was, however, a moment more of respite, and Nicholas, with a wild cheer, dashed into the forest, riding recklessly through the trees. We both leaned forward to the necks of our horses, and as far as I was concerned I made no attempt to guide my beast, but let him follow Couronne, who, surefooted as a stag, turned and twisted amongst the trees with almost human forethought. The single hound that was left strained bravely behind us; but, mindful probably of the fate that had overtaken his brother, made no direct attack. As we dashed into the wood the troopers attempted to follow; but it was with a relaxed speed, and every moment we were distancing them, and their cries, shouts, and curses became fainter and more faint. I began to think if we could but be rid of the sleuthhound, we would get off with whole skins. The beast was, however, not to be shaken off, and, avoiding the heels of the horses, came with a lop, lop, through the leaves alongside my nag, just out of reach of the point of my sword, which I had managed to draw. As he snapped and growled, my horse, already once wounded, and still smarting with pain, shied off from him, bruising my leg against a tree trunk, in the bark of which my spur remained, and all but unseating me. Another shy amongst the trees would have finished my business, for the pain of the bruise at the moment was exquisite; but, leaping a fallen log, Nicholas burst through a juniper bush, and my horse following him, we came on to an open stretch which sloped down to the river.

'Ouf! Out of it at last!' I gasped out to Nicholas.

'It's a mile yet to the river, monsieur,' he answered, slackening pace slightly to allow me to get alongside of him.

The dog, however, was not yet shaken off, and kept steadily beside my horse. In the bright moon I could see him running freely and easily; and, much as I cursed his presence there, I could not help but admire the gallant beast. He seemed to know perfectly the danger that lay in the long shining sword, that thrust out at him like a snake's tongue whenever he came too near.

I, however, owed him one for the bruise, and it was not a time to waste in admiring things. So I called to Nicholas.

'Slacken pace a little more. I want to be rid of the dog.'

'We can kill him in the river,' answered the sergeant.

'Better stop him here,' and Nicholas obeyed.

Seeing us slacken, the hound tried to head the horses. This was exactly what I wanted; and shortening the reins, I pulled round my nag suddenly, right upon the dog, and, stooping low, gave him a couple of inches in the quarters as he attempted to double. It was not a wound that would kill. I had no intention, unless forced to, of doing that; but it had the desired effect, and he fled back howling with pain.

'Adieu, monsieur!' I cried out after him with a laugh, and joining the sergeant we cantered on through the clearing towards the river.

The ill-will I felt towards Nicholas had gone by this time. He had borne himself like a brave man, as he was; and, after all, if I had been in his position I would perhaps have done the same, and let drive at de Gomeron at sight. My little nag, however, at this time began to show signs of distress, and I turned my attention from the sergeant to husbanding the poor beast's strength – patting him on his foam-covered neck to encourage him, and speaking to him in the manner that horses love. Pardieu! If men only knew it, there are moments when a touch of the hand and a kind word are better than four-inch spurs.

We came to a narrow patch now, and rode down this, the river being in sight, winding like a silver ribbon thrown carelessly down. On the opposite bank it was overhung with willows, whose drooping boughs swung low to the very surface of the water. Here and there the stump of a felled tree stood up like a sentinel. In the distance, behind us, we could hear one or two of the troopers, who had by this time managed to get through the wood, yelling and shouting as they urged their horses towards the river. Doubtless more would soon follow, and I cursed them loudly and heartily. Nicholas looked back.

'But fifteen yards of a swim, monsieur, and we are safe.'

'Not exactly. See there?'

The sergeant followed my outstretched blade, and swore too. Right before us two men galloped out of a strip of coppice that stretched to the water's edge and cut us off from the stream.

'Sacrebleu! How did they know that cut? Have at them, monsieur.'

And we did.

It had to be a matter of moments only. The troopers behind were coming on, and, if once they reached us, we could not well hope to escape again; the odds were too many. I did not, therefore, waste time, but went straight for my man, and, to do him justice, he seemed nothing loath to meet me. He cut over the shoulder, and, receiving this on my forte, I gave him the point in the centre of his breastplate, making it ring like a bell. Only a Milanese corselet could have saved him as it did. My nag went on, but turned on its haunches to the reins, and before he could well recover himself I was at him again, and discovered that he wore a demi-mask on his face.

'Monsieur, shall I prick your mask off before killing you?' I mocked, suiting the words to a thrust that all but effected the object, and ripped him on the cheek.

He was a good swordsman, but this made him beside himself with passion, and this frantic state, and the sound of his voice as he kept cursing me, told me that my opponent was none other than Biron himself. Now came a serious difficulty, which I had to consider like lightning. Did I kill him, and he was an infant in my hands, there could be no hope for me – he was too great – too highly placed for me to have any chance if I compassed his death. Therefore, as I pressed him, I called out loud enough for him to hear, 'Marshal, you are mad – go back – you are known to me.'

He thrust at me for answer; but I could stand no more nonsense, and, getting within his guard, struck him off his horse with a blow from the hilt of my sword, and, wasting not a second more on him, turned to the assistance of Nicholas.

It was much needed, for the sergeant's opponent was none other than de Gomeron himself, who had remounted after his fall, and, by cutting off a corner, intercepted us, almost with complete success. How Nicholas held his own against this finished swordsman for even so long a period as a half-minute I am unable to say. It was doubtless due to the strength of his bitter hatred, and his fury for revenge. Even as it was, I was too late. As I dashed towards him, Nicholas fairly screamed out:

'Leave him to me – he is – a – ah!'

He never finished, for de Gomeron saw his chance and passed his sword through the sergeant's throat, and he fell limply from Couronne a dead man.

Before, however, the free-lance could recover himself I was on him, and, standing in my stirrups, cut at him with the full swing of my sword. He parried like lightning, but the force of the blow beat down his guard, and although my blade fell flat upon his steel cap, he went down like an ox.

Poor Nicholas was gone! I knew that thrust, and once received there was nothing for it but masses for the soul. A half-dozen troopers were not two hundred yards away, and life lay on the other side of the Eure. I went straight on, and jumped my horse into the stream. It was running high and deep, and as I fell into the water with a splash and hiss of white foam around me, I heard another heavy plunge close to my shoulder, and, in the glance I cast towards the sound, saw that it was the now riderless Couronne, who had followed her companion of the night. To ease the horse, I slipped from the saddle, and, hanging on to the pommel, was towed along by him as the good beast breasted the stream bravely. Pardieu! How the yellow water grumbled and foamed and bubbled around us. The current set towards the opposite bank, and the force of it carried us down, it seemed in a moment, fully fifty yards from the spot where we had plunged in, to within a few feet of the opposite shore. Here, however, the river ran strong and swiftly, the bank was high, and the horses could make no headway, but kept drifting down. By this time the troopers had reached the scene of the fight, and I could hear them howling with anger as they gathered around their fallen leaders, and, without a head to guide them, hesitated what to do, each moment of delay giving me precious time, and bringing me closer to a shelving bank a few yards to the left. Not one of the troopers dared the stream, and they had apparently emptied their arquebuses after us in pursuit, for none fired, although they called to each other, 'Shoot him down – shoot him down!'

A couple of men galloped down stream a little below me, and, dismounting, began to load hurriedly, it being evidently their intention to pick me off as I drifted past. For the moment I gave myself up for lost; but, determining to make a last effort to save myself, made a snatch at the willows that overhung the bank and brushed us with their wet and dripping leaves as we struggled underneath. As I did this, I loosed my hold of the saddle, and the horses slid past me, and I was dragged by the current right into the bank. The willows were tough, and I held on to them like a leech, and the troopers, who had seen what I was about, began to laugh at me, and adjure me to hold on tight as they would be ready to shoot in a moment. The fools! They gave me the moment's time I wanted, and, digging my boot into the soft bank, I laid hold of the stem of a willow and with an effort reached the shore. I rolled over at full length, and then lay flat on my face, whilst the troopers with many curses ran forward a few feet and let off their arquebuses, on the off chance of bringing me down. They aimed truly enough, and had I not lain to earth as I did, I should infallibly have been killed, for the bullets whizzed past, it seemed, but a few inches above me. I let out a yell as if I was mortally hurt, and then rising, ran down stream behind the willows as fast as my bruised leg would allow me, to see if I could not get back one or both the horses. My stratagem had the desired effect, for on my cry of 'I am dead – I am dead,' two others of the men who had run up let off their pieces where I was supposed to be, and they all shouted, 'We have him; he is down.'

'Morbleu! Not yet,' I could hardly refrain from chuckling to myself, as I hobbled along the bank, and to my joy saw them in a little bay, about a hundred paces from me, moving slowly in the shallow water. One behind the other, towards the land. A spur had been thrown out here, evidently with the object of protecting the bank, and it had cast the main stream on the opposite shore, and given the beasts a chance of landing.

I felt my leg at each step I took; but went on at a round pace somehow, and came up to Couronne just as she was stepping out of the water. Catching her by the bridle, I mounted, although with some difficulty, and slipping my hands through the reins of my own nag, trotted off under cover of the trees, leaving M. de Gomeron, who had doubtless recovered by this time, and his men to make a target of the darkness. I had come through somehow, but I was sick and sore at heart, as I urged Couronne from a trot to a gallop, when I thought of poor Nicholas lying dead by the banks of the Eure.

CHAPTER VIII
MONSIEUR DE PREAULX

I kept off the road as far as possible to avoid being tracked. Even if no further attempt to follow me was made to-night, which was uncertain, as de Gomeron was not the man to let the barest chance slip through his fingers, yet there was no doubt as to what would happen on the morrow. I congratulated myself on having crippled the last of the sleuthhounds, as my gentlemen would be placed thereby in a difficulty in regard to my route, and if they scoured the country in twos and threes, I felt confident of being able, with Jacques' aid, to give a good account of myself did we meet, despite my bruised leg, which reminded me of itself unpleasantly.

As I patted Couronne's neck I thought of Nicholas, and with the memory of him the face of Marie came up. I felt myself in a measure responsible for his death, and was resolved to weigh out in full to Marie the payment I had promised them both. It was a debt I would discharge to the end of the measure.

A sense of relief came to my mind with this resolve, and, as Rouvres could not be far distant, I slackened pace to let the horses breathe a trifle, and began to hastily plan my future course of action on reaching Paris. I had not only discovered what was evidently a deep and widely-spread plot, but had also stumbled on the dreadful secret of the death of the woman who was to be Queen of France in name, as she was in reality. It was certain that she had been foully murdered. It was certain that the King's most trusted captain and many of his greatest nobles were hilt-deep in treachery – so much I knew. I had seen with mine own eyes, and heard with mine own ears, but beyond this I had no proofs – and what would my word weigh against theirs! Besides this there was my own trouble. D'Ayen's mocking warning was explicit enough when read with Palin's confidence, and any doubt I may have had on that point was almost set at rest by what I had overheard. In short, I was the rival of the King, and felt my head very loose upon my neck.

What was I to do? It was no easy matter to decide; but I came to the conclusion that my best course was to seek out the all-powerful Sully, tell him what I knew, and beg the help of that great man. I did not know him, except by repute; but my case was strong and my cause good. I would delay not a moment about this on reaching Paris; but it was Rouvres I had to come to first, and many a league lay for reflection between me and the Louvre.

So I jogged on, not quite certain of my way, and every now and again making a cast to find the road, for by riding parallel with it I knew I must reach my destination. Once, however, I lost myself for about an hour, and, on finding the road again, resolved to keep to it for the remainder of my journey, as the moon was rapidly waning, and that darkness which touches the edge of the morning was at hand.

At last I heard the Lauds chime solemnly out into the night, and in a few minutes pulled up the weary beasts before the gates of Rouvres. Here I found a difficulty I might have anticipated. The gates were shut, and the unpleasant prospect of a dreary wait of some hours lay before me. This was not to be borne, and I raised a clamour that might have awakened the dead. It had the desired effect of rousing the watch at the gate; a wicket was opened, the light of a lanthorn flashed through, and a gruff voice bade me begone.

'Open,' I roared, 'open in the King's name.'

'Pardieu! Monsieur, the gates are kept shut in the King's name, and his Majesty does not like his subjects' rest being disturbed,' answered another voice, and from its tone and inflection I guessed it was that of an officer.

'In that case, monsieur,' I said, 'let me in so that we may both go to our beds, and a thousand apologies for disturbing you. My servant is already at the Grand Cerf, and one man cannot take Rouvres.'

'Then you are that M. de Preaulx of the Anjoumois, whose lackey Jacques Bisson arrived last night – for it is morning now?'

'You keep good watch, monsieur – who else should I be?' I said, with an inward 'thank heaven' at the accident that had discovered to me my new name.

There was no reply for a moment, though I heard some one laughing, and the rays of the light were cast to the right and to the left of me to see that I was really alone. Finally orders were given for my admission. The gates went open with a creaking, and I was within Rouvres.

As I rode in I stopped to thank the officer for his courtesy, and the light being very clear, he observed my condition, and exclaimed, 'Diable! But you have ridden far, monsieur, and with a led horse too!'

'I ride in the King's name, monsieur,' I replied a little coldly, and, thanking him once more, was seized with an inspiration, and begged the favour of his company at dinner at the Grand Cerf.

'With pleasure, monsieur. Permit me to introduce myself. I am the Chevalier d'Aubusson, lieutenant of M. de Sancy's company of ordonnance.'

I raised my hat in response; 'His Majesty has no braver word than M. de Sancy. At twelve then, monsieur, I shall have the pleasure of meeting you again; good night, or rather good morning!'

'Adieu!' he answered, 'I will be punctual. The Grand Cerf is but a couple of hundred toises to your right.'

As I rode up the narrow and ill-paved street I heard d'Aubusson whistling a catch as he turned into the guard-room, and congratulated myself on my stratagem and the luck that had befriended it. I knew enough of court intrigue to be aware that de Sancy and the Marshal were at each other's throats, and that I could therefore always get protection here by declaring myself against Biron. Then came a short turn to the right, and Monsieur de Preaulx of the Anjoumois was at the door of the Grand Cerf. It opened to my knock, and Jacques, faithful knave, was in waiting. After this there followed the usual little delay and bustle consequent on a new arrival.

As I dismounted Jacques whispered in my ear, 'You are M. de Preaulx of Saumur in the Anjoumois, monsieur.'

'So M. d'Aubusson tells me,' I replied in the same tone, and then louder, 'but you might have made a mess of it, Jacques – however, you meant well, and I owe you five crowns for your good intentions. Now call mine host, and tell him to show me to my rooms whilst you see to the horses.'

Mine host was already there, in slippered feet, with a long candle in one hand and a cup of warmed Romanée in the other. He led the way with many bows, and I limped after him to a room which was large and comfortable enough.

'Here is some mulled Romanée for monsieur le baron,' he said, as he handed me the goblet; 'his lordship the count will observe that the best room has been kept for him, and later on I will have the pleasure of setting the finest dinner in France before the most noble marquis; good night, monseigneur, good night and good dreams,' and he tottered off, leaving me to drink the mulled wine, which was superb, and to sleep the sleep of the utterly weary.

It was late when I awoke and found Jacques in my room, attending to my things. The rest had done my leg good, although it was still stiff, and the wearing of a long boot painful. As I finished my toilet I asked my man,

'Horses ready?'

'They will be by the time Monsieur has dined. I shall put the valises on the nag we got at Evreux for you.'

'Right. Morbleu! I hear M. d'Aubusson below. It is very late.'

'It has just gone the dinner hour.'

I hurried downstairs, leaving Jacques to pack, and was only just in time to receive my guest.

'A hundred pardons, monsieur; but I overslept myself.'

''Tis a sleepy place,' he answered, 'there is nothing to do but to sleep.'

'Surely there is something to love.'

'Not a decent ankle under a petticoat.'

'At any rate we can eat. Come, sit you down. My ride has made me hungry as a wolf, and I have far to go.'

The dinner was excellent, the Armagnac of the finest vintage, and d'Aubusson to all appearances a gay frank-hearted fellow, and we became very friendly as the wine cup passed.

'Tell me what induced M. de Sancy to quarter his company here?' I asked towards the close of the meal, as the lieutenant was cursing his luck at being stationed at Rouvres.

He burst out laughing; 'Oh! M. de Sancy has a government and five thousand livres a year to maintain his company, and being a pious soul has enlisted all the saints, and keeps them as far as possible from the temptations of Paris.'

'Enlisted the saints!'

'Yes – this Armagnac is excellent – yes, the saints. Our gentlemen are all from heaven – there is St. Andre, St. Vincent, St. Martin, St. Blaise, St. Loy, St. Pol, and half the calendar besides!'

'Ha! ha! the heavenly host.'

'Oh! I am proud, I assure you. I command the company from Paradise.'

'Or the gendarmes of the Kyrielle.'

'Noel! Noel!' he called out gaily, and as he did so we heard a clatter of hoofs in the courtyard, and a few moments afterwards the landlord ushered in two gentlemen. It took me but a glance to recognise in one the Italian Zamet, and in the other the Chevalier Lafin. It cost me an effort to compose myself, so much was I startled; but I comforted myself with the assurance that I was unknown to them, and that an arrest would be no easy matter with Sancy's company at hand. Beyond bowing to us, however, as they passed, they took no further notice of me for the present, and contented themselves with ordering some wine, and conversing in low tones at the table at which they sat.

Nevertheless, it was a piece of ill luck. These men were evidently back on their way to Paris, and by coming through Rouvres had stumbled upon me in such a manner as to hold me at serious disadvantage. My one consolation was that Zamet did not look like a fighting man, and as for the other, there was an equal chance for each of us; but I had no idea what their force might be outside. It turned out that it was very small, and it was owing to this that the incident I am about to describe ended so peacefully. A look or two in our direction appeared to indicate that the new arrivals were discussing us, and my doubts were soon set at rest by a lackey entering and holding a brief whispered talk with Zamet. He dismissed the man quietly, and then bending forward said something to Lafin, and both, rising, approached us.

'Monsieur will pardon me,' said Zamet, addressing me with his lisping Italian accent, 'but I understand that you entered Rouvres late last night.'

'Yes,' I answered, whilst d'Aubusson raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair, twirling his moustache.

'Then would you be so kind as to inform me, if you came by the road from Anet, whether you met a wounded horseman riding this way?'

'Before I answer any questions, will you be good enough to tell me who you are, gentlemen?'

'I am Zamet, Comptroller of the King's household,' replied the Italian.

'And I the Chevalier de Lafin, nephew and heir to the Vidame de Chartres.'

'I see no reason to reply to your question, messieurs, even if you are the persons you name.'

Zamet smiled slightly, with a meaning look towards Lafin, who burst out:

'Have a care, monsieur, remember I follow the Marshal duc de Biron.'

'Of Burgundy and La Bresse,' I added with a sneer, rising from my seat, my hand on my sword hilt.

'It is he,' exclaimed the Italian, and Lafin, who saw my movement, stepped back half a pace, not from fear, but to gain room to draw his weapon.

'My dear lieutenant,' and I turned to d'Aubusson, 'you complain that this is a dull place. We shall now have some relaxation. These gentlemen want a question answered, and I say certainly – I suggest the garden as a suitable place for our conference. Will you do me the favour to look on?'

'That will be slower than ever for me. If you will allow me to join you?'

'Delighted. You are my guest, and it will make us exactly two to two. Now, gentlemen,' I will answer your question on the lawn.' Whilst we were speaking, some hurried words passed between Lafin and Zamet, and as I turned to them with my invitation the Italian answered:

'There was no offence meant, monsieur. We had business with the man from Anet,' he looked hard at me as he spoke, 'and at present we have not leisure to attend to you. We will, therefore, not intrude on you further. We but stay for a glass of wine, and then press onwards.'

'Hum!' exclaimed d'Aubusson, surveying him from head to bootheel, and then turning an equally contemptuous look at Lafin, 'you are very disobliging gentlemen.'

'This is not to be borne,' burst out Lafin. 'Come, sir – '

But Zamet again interposed.

'Diavolo! Chevalier, your courage is known. We will settle with these gentlemen another day – you forget. Will you risk all now? 'His companion put back his half-drawn sword with a curse and a snap, and, turning on his heel, went to the other end of the room, followed by Zamet. There they drank their wine and departed, and an hour later I also started. D'Aubusson insisted on accompanying me part of the way with a couple of his saints, and, as we approached the Paris gate, we observed a man riding slowly, a little ahead of us. 'I recognise the grey,' said Jacques, coming to my side. 'Monsieur, that is one of the three servants the two gentlemen who have gone before had with them.'

This small force accounted, as I have said, for the moderation Zamet had shown; but it flashed upon me that the lackey had been left behind for no other purpose than that of observing our route. Even if I was wrong in this surmise it was well to be prudent, and turning to d'Aubusson I said:

'Monsieur, I wish to be frank with you. It is true that I am bearing news to Paris which will be of the greatest service to the King; but my name is not de Preaulx.'

'I know that,' he said quietly, 'I am of the Anjoumois, and there is no such name there.'

'And you did not arrest me?'

'Why the devil should I? The land is at peace, and I have been Monsieur "I-Don't-Know-What" before now myself. Besides, you were in my hands at the Grand Cerf. You are in my hands now. But I wanted to know more, and when I saw that you were an object of M. Zamet's attentions I knew you were on our side.'

'Exactly so, and I owe you much for this. There is another favour I would ask.'

'And it is?'

'That you stop the man riding ahead of us until this evening.'

'As it will annoy Zamet, I shall do so with pleasure. I had half a mind to stop the shoemaker himself.'