The flare of a torch at the end of the street brought me from my revery, and I pulled my horse to a sudden halt and peered through the darkness ahead. I could dimly discern the barrier, and my heart seemed to stop as I saw that the gates were closed and that two sentries were pacing up and down in front of them. It would seem that I myself was in a trap.
I slid from my horse, led him to a side street, tied him, and then moved cautiously forward to examine the situation. Owing to the darkness I drew quite close to the gates without being discovered, and concealed myself behind a flight of steps which projected from one of the houses. As I had seen before, two sentries were guarding the gates, and had they been alone I might have had some chance of overpowering them. But from the guard-house at the side came the sound of laughter and the click of dice, and I knew that there were others there, who, at the first cry of alarm, would rush to the rescue of their comrades. Force, then, was not to be thought of and strategy was necessary. But by what strategy could I hope to persuade these men to allow myself and my horse to pass unquestioned, when they had doubtless received strict orders to allow no one to leave the city without close scrutiny? Here was an obstacle upon which I had not counted. In times of peace the gates were never shut, and I had thought to pass them without difficulty, but the discovery of the plot must have alarmed the authorities. At any rate, the gates were closed, and I did not doubt that some pass-word was necessary to open them.
As I was cudgelling my brains over this problem, which seemed on its face to baffle solution, I heard the rapid beat of a horse’s hoofs from the direction of the city, and a moment later a horse and rider came into view. He was riding with a fine disregard of the dangers of the loose and uneven pavement, and the sound of his rapid approach, which awoke a thousand echoes along the gloomy street, drew five or six guards from the sentry-house.
“Who goes there?” cried one of the men at the gate. “Stand, monsieur.”
“Who is in command here?” asked the new-comer, reining up his horse just in time to escape running down one of the sentries. “Quick! I have no time to lose.”
“I am, monsieur,” answered another voice from the direction of the house, and an officer hurried into the light cast by the torches over the gate. “What is it?”
“Orders for you, monsieur. You will read them at once. And now, open the gate. I have further advices for the regent, who is at Versailles.”
“The pass-word, monsieur?” said the commandant of the post.
“Rocroy,” answered the courier. “Quickly, let me pass.”
The gates were opened on the instant, and the rider put spurs to his horse and disappeared into the darkness of the road without. The gates were shut again, and the commandant retired to the guard-house to read his orders.