Edward turned his head in the direction to which Montagu had glanced a moment before, and saw a party not much less numerous than that in front, with the blacksmith who had disappeared the night before amongst the foremost. His pistol was in his hand, and the temptation was irresistible. He threw his arm across his chest without wheeling his horse, pulled the trigger, and the traitor fell from his saddle with a bullet in his shoulder.
At the same moment the English groom, who had ridden up at Lord Montagu's first order, caught the other unhappy man by the arm, and had the muzzle of his weapon at his ear; but Montagu put it aside before he could fire, saying, "Vain! vain! Edward, you are always too ready with those pistols."
"I have given him but his due, my lord, if I die for it the next minute," said Edward. "But see: that tall man with the white scarf is waving it to your lordship."
"Stay here, and I will go forward a little," said Lord Montagu. "There is nothing for it but to surrender quietly. They are five to one."
"Let me go with you, my lord," said Edward.
"Well, then, put up your pistol," answered Montagu. "The rest stay here."
Montagu took off his hat in answer to the signal made by the other party, and rode forward with Edward, while a gentleman of some five or six and thirty, who seemed the leader of the larger body gathered across the road, advanced alone to meet the English nobleman. As they neared each other, the two saluted courteously; and throughout their interview the utmost politeness manifested itself, instead of the ferocious roughness which in a French picture of this very incident is represented as characterizing the demeanor of M. de Bourbonne.
The French gentleman spoke first. "I have the honor of wishing you good-day, my Lord Montagu," he said. "Your lordship is here somewhat earlier than we expected you."
"I am sorry I did not know, sir, that you are so matutinal in your habits," replied Montagu, somewhat superciliously; "otherwise I should have been here earlier still."