“Where are they?” asked Louis of the servants.
“At the outer gate,” answered La Verdure, one of the grooms. “Does not monsieur hear the noise they are making with their sabres?”
“Then Gaston must escape over the garden wall.”
“It is guarded, monsieur,” said La Verdure, “and the little gate in the park besides. There seems to be a regiment of them. They are even stationed along the park walls.”
This was only too true. The rumor of Lazet’s death had spread like wildfire throughout the town of Tarascon, and everybody was in a state of excitement. Not only mounted gendarmes, but a platoon of hussars from the garrison, had been sent in pursuit of the murderer.
At least twenty young men of Tarascon were volunteer guides to the armed force.
“Then,” said the marquis, “we are surrounded?”
“Not a single chance for escape,” groaned St. Jean.
“We shall see about that, Jarnibleu!” cried the marquis. “Ah, we are not the strongest, but we can be the most adroit. Attention! Louis, my son, you and La Verdure go down to the stable, and mount the fastest horses; then as quietly as possible station yourselves, you, Louis, at the park gate, and you, La Verdure, at the outer gate. Upon the signal I shall give you by firing a pistol, let every door be instantly opened, while Louis and Verdure dash through the gates, and make the gendarmes pursue them.”
“I will make them fly,” said La Verdure.