“Against the women. They have made me suffer and have laughed. A month ago I won my promotion, but a petticoat intervened, and the reward which should have been mine passed to another. Some day I will tell you——”
A shout from his men interrupted him.
We sprang to our feet and saw, just topping the rise in the road, another rider. He drew short up at the shout and at sight of the guard barring his passage. Then he wheeled sharp around as though to retreat, but again stopped.
Dubosq chuckled.
“Caught!” he cried.
“But why doesn’t he go back?” I asked.
“Because, my child, there’s another detachment across the road down yonder, as you would have seen had you looked around.” He drew a pistol from his belt and fired it in the air. “That will bring them on,” he added. “Now, citizen, you will see the trap close—the trap of Sergeant Dubosq. Advance, men! Bring him down if he attempts to escape.”
The Blues began to advance slowly, their guns presented.
“Hold your horse, citizen,” said Dubosq, “and wait here for me. I have something more to say to you;” and he set off after his men.
The fugitive looked about him again. He was fairly caught between two fires. In a moment he must surrender, covered by twenty muskets. But he did not wait for that moment. Instead he put his horse at the ditch, leaped it, and made off across the fields.