The troop consisted of some twenty men, two gentlemen riding at their head; and as they came up, they checked their horses.
"Whither come you, and where are you bound, my men?"
"We come from Bordeaux, sir, and we are bound for Agen," Jacques replied. "My comrade and I served under De Brissac, when we were mere lads, and we have a fancy to try the old trade again; and our young cousins also want to try their metal."
"You are a Gascon, by your tongue?"
"That is so," Jacques said; "and it is for that reason we are going south. We would rather fight in a company of our own people than with strangers."
"Whom have you been serving at Bordeaux? I am from the city, and know most of those in and round it."
"We have not been working there, sir. We come from near Blaye, and made the journey thence to Bordeaux by a boat with our master, Jacques Blazin, who was bringing to Bordeaux a cargo of his wines."
"Why waste time, Raoul?" the other gentleman said, impatiently. "What matter if they came from Bordeaux or Blaye, these are not of those whom we are here to arrest. Anyhow they are not Huguenot lords, but look what they say they are; but whether men-at-arms, or peasants, they concern us not. Maybe, while we are questioning them, a party of those we are in search of may be traversing some other road. Let us be riding forward."
He roughly pricked his horse with his spur, and the troop rode on.
"I think you are wrong to be so impatient, Louis," the one who had acted as interrogator said. "Anyone could see, with half an eye, that those two fellows were, as they said, old men-at-arms. There is a straightness and a stiffness about men who have been under the hands of the drill sergeant there is no mistaking; and I could swear that fellow is a Gascon, as he said.