"He is not my lord," cried another, in a faint tone. "I am wounded and hurt, and cannot go faster."
"Get on, get on, villain!" reiterated the other voice. "You would fain keep us till the fools behind mend the bridge and come up with us. Get on, I say! If he do not walk faster, prick him with your dagger, Bouchart. We will skin him alive when we get to the end of the march! Drive it into him!"
A sharp cry succeeded: Bernard de Rohan could bear no more, but, bursting away from the hand of the brigand, he sprang into the road. Leon followed him at once; but, even before he was down, the young cavalier's sword had stretched one of the advancing party on the ground, and was crossed with that of another.
"Hold, hold!" shouted the loud voice of the brigand. "Hold, and throw down your arms! Villains, you are surrounded on all sides!"
For a moment their opponents had drawn back; but the scanty number of the assailants was seen before Corse de Leon uttered what seemed so empty a boast.
"Cut him down," cried a voice from behind, "cut him down!" and one of the horsemen spurred on towards him. Another, at the same moment, aimed a blow at the head of Bernard de Rohan from behind, which struck him on the shoulder and brought him on his knee, while a shot was fired at the brigand, which struck his cuirass, but glanced off harmless.
"It is time we should have help," said Corse de Leon, in a cool tone; and while, with his right hand, he drew a pistol from his girdle, levelled it at the head of one of those who were contending with Bernard de Rohan, fired, and saw the man fall over into the valley below, with the left he applied a small instrument to his lips, producing a loud, long, shrill whistle, which those who have heard it will never forget. It is like the scream of a bird of prey, but infinitely louder; and the moment it proceeded from the lips of the brigand, similar sounds echoed round and round from twenty different points above, below, and on the opposite side.
When Bernard de Rohan staggered up from his knee, the scene was completely changed. Corse de Leon stood no longer alone, but with three stout men by his side armed to the teeth. The fragments of rock and large stones that were rolling from above showed that rapid footsteps were coming down the side of the mountain. Up from the rocky bed of the stream five or six other men were seen climbing with the activity of the chamois or the izzard, and, to complete the whole, the whistle was still heard prolonged up the valley, while, from the same side, the ear could distinguish the galloping of horse coming down with furious speed.
The party of the adversary, however, was large. All were well armed; all evidently accustomed to strife and danger; and had all apparently made up their minds to struggle to the last. They accordingly made a fierce charge along the road, in order to force their way on; and the strife now became hand to hand, and man to man, while, above the contest, the loud voice of the brigand leader was heard shouting, "Tie them! Tie them! Do not kill them if you can help it!"
Nor was his assumption of certain success unjustified. Every moment fresh numbers were added to the party of Corse de Leon. The adversaries were driven back along the road, dragging the prisoners with them some way, but were stopped by fresh opponents, dropping, as it were, from the mountains, and cutting them off in their retreat. They were still struggling, however, when at length eight or nine horsemen, the sound of whose approach had been heard before, reached the scene of combat; and then, seeing that farther resistance was vain, several of them uttered a cry of "Quarter! quarter! We will throw down our arms."