"Now, dear mother," said Jean Charost, taking the old lady's hand, "you must let me lead you to your litter; for these friends of ours are coming this way. Run, boy, and tell Martin Grille and the rest to mount, and be gone on the road to De Brecy. Come, Agnes, come."
All were soon in the court-yard. It may seem an ungallant comparison; but all light things are more easily moved than weightier ones, and women, like dust, are soon disturbed by bustle. The very haste with which her son spoke destroyed all Madame De Brecy's confidence, agitated and alarmed her. Even Agnes felt a sort of thrill of apprehension come over her heart. But in those perilous times people were drilled into promptitude. Madame De Brecy and two of the maids wee soon in the litter, and Agnes mounted on her horse by Jean Charost's side. She had seen him in times of suffering and of captivity; she had seen him go forth to battle and to danger; she had seen him in the chivalrous sports which in those times were practiced in almost every castle in the land; but she had never ridden by his side in the hour of peril and command. On many a former occasion, deep interest, compassion, admiration perhaps, had been excited in her bosom; but now other sensations arose as she heard the clear, plain orders issue from his lips, and saw the promptness and submission with which all around obeyed. Surely woman was formed to yield, and, beyond all doubt, there is something very admirable to her eyes in the display of power. But she was to witness more before the day closed.
As they issued forth upon the road down to the village of St. Florent, nothing was to be seen which could create the least alarm; and, turning toward Solier, all seemed fair and open. But still Jean Charost was watchful and anxious, throwing out several men in front, and detaching others to the rear, while, as they approached the little valley which lies between the Cher and the Avon, and gives name to the small hamlet of La Vallée, he sent one of the soldiers on whom he could trust to the top of the church tower, to reconnoitre the country around. The man came back at speed; and rejoined the party ere they had proceeded far, bringing the intelligence that he had seen a considerable body of horse following slowly at about half a league's distance.
"Then we have plenty of time," said Jean Charost, in an easy tone; but still he rather hurried the horses, and, mounting the hill, the towers of Bourges were soon in sight.
At that time the road to Mont Luçon entered the road to Bourges much nearer to the city than it does at present, and it was along the former that the way of Jean Charost lay in going to De Brecy, if he wished to avoid passing through the city itself. But as he approached the point of separation, the sound of a trumpet on the right met his ear, and, galloping up a little eminence, he saw a large body of crossbow men, with some thirty or forty men-at-arms coming up from the side of Luçon. They were near enough for the banners to be visible, and he needed nothing more to decide him. Wheeling his horse, he hurried down the hill again, and, speaking to his lieutenant, said, "There are the men of La Marche in our way. There is nothing for it but to go through Bourges."
"Here is Hubert come back from the front, sir," replied the lieutenant at once, "to tell us that they have got a party on the bridge over the Avon. They shouted to him to keep back; so they will never let us pass into Bourges."
"The best reason for going forward," answered Jean Charost, in a gay tone. "We are nicely entangled; but we have made our way through, against worse odds than this. How many are there, Hubert?"
"Much about our own numbers, fair sir," replied the man. "The others are a great deal further off; but we are right between them."
"Oh; Jean, will you be obliged to surrender?" asked Agnes, with a pale face.
"Surrender!" exclaimed Jean Charost, pointing to his pennon, which was carried by one of the men. "Shall De Brecy's pennon fall, my Agnes, before, a handful of rebels, and you by my side? Give me my lance. Now mark me, Dubois. The bridge is narrow; not more than two can pass abreast. You lead the right file, Courbeboix the left. Valentin, with the eight last men, escort the litter and this lady. The object is to give them a free passage. We must beat the rebels back off the bridge, and then disperse them over the flat ground beyond. Go back to the side of the litter, my Agnes. 'Twere better you dismounted and joined my mother. Go back, dear girl; we must lose no time. Now, loyal gentlemen, use the spur. They have bid us back; I say, forward!"