At that moment, close to where we stood, burst forth the report of a pistol-shot, with some loud tongues speaking.
"Come you or not, my lord?" I cried; "this is the last moment."
"Of course I come not," replied the baron. "Go, go, Henry," he added, with a momentary emotion of feeling, "I thank you, I thank you, but I cannot come."
I left the tent instantly with some disappointment, that even in that short moment I had not beheld Louise. The moment I was beyond the canvass walls, however, the voice of Moric Endem met my ear, and I darted towards the spot where we had left the sentry.
"This way, sir, this way," cried Moric, as soon as he perceived me by the light of the fire; "I have been obliged to shoot the pikeman, and we shall have them all upon us in a minute. See, see, they are coming up there. Are not your friends ready? Then you must leave them, for, by heavens, we shall have hot work before we make our escape."
"They do not come, Moric, they do not come," I cried, hurrying on towards the gap. "Could you not have dealt with him more quietly? Firearms make such a noise."
"He kept me off with his pike," said Moric, speaking as we hurried along; "and, if I hadn't shot him, he would have stopped the lady."
"What lady, in the name of Heaven?" I exclaimed, pausing in astonishment. But Moric seized me by the arm, saying,
"Come on, come on, my lord! There's no stopping to think now! I mean the lady Andriot brought out."
I now paused not an instant, but hurried on like lightning to the spot where the led horses were held. The mist prevented me from seeing anything till I was close upon them; but then, to my confusion and consternation, I beheld, seated on the pillion behind the lad Andriot, the light, beautiful figure of Louise de Blancford, with no other covering against the cold of the night but a thick veil thrown over her head.