I glanced back for a last look at the town, and saw M. le Comte riding moodily along near the rear of the column. To his left rode Sieur Letourge, to his right d’Aurilly.
CHAPTER V
THE RIDE TO CADILLAC
M. le Comte’s château of Cadillac stood upon the east bank of the Garonne, some ten leagues to the south of Montauban. My father had taken me thither once, when I was a mere boy,—what business called him there I do not know,—and I remember quite clearly the great house, with its high, graceful central tower, its broad wings, and the pretty park in front, sloping sweetly down to the river’s edge. It beseemed me at the time that the palace of the King of France must be less beautiful; but, alas, one’s eyes grow more critical with age!
Our road for a time lay through the wide valley of the river, and as we swung onward I sat erect in the saddle and drank in great draughts of the cool air—so sweet, so pure, such as one finds only here in Gascony. It was good to be alive, in such gallant company, with promise of hard blows and, perchance, glory at the end. I stole a glance at Fronsac, not doubting that he shared my exultation, and was astonished to see him riding with rein loose and head bent and eye lack-lustre. He surprised my glance and smiled as he looked at me.
“The question, my friend,” he said, “is, shall we be in time?”
I did not answer. I confess I did not wish the adventure to end so speedily and tamely. Besides, I had a great desire to see for myself the Duc de Roquefort’s stronghold in the Pyrenees, for I had heard it was worth seeing.
“When was it you left Marsan?” he asked after a moment.
“At midnight on the twenty-fourth.”
“And this is the twenty-seventh. On the morning of the twenty-fifth, doubtless, the Duc de Roquefort left his seat at Marleon and started for M. le Comte’s château. By pushing his horses he might have reached Caumont that night. By evening of yesterday he should have been at Drovet, and he may get to the château by noon to-day. If he has carried out this programme, we shall be too late.”
“But, Monsieur,” I protested, “it may be that he did not set out from Marleon until the twenty-sixth, or some accident may have happened to delay him. Besides, he could not have gone by the direct route, since he was penetrating the country of M. le Comte’s allies. He must keep his march secret, or run the risk of being taken prisoner. It is only by great diligence that he could reach the château to-day.”