"Let us ride straight on!" said Mario. "If they are not enemies, we shall soon find it out."
"Vive Dieu!" replied the marquis, "they must be the reitres, for they are following us! Ride hard, my dear child."
And he thought:
"May God give my poor horses strength of leg!"
But the horses had travelled too far over the heavy ploughed land not to have lost their first freshness, and the men behind them pressed them so close that the marquis expected every moment to hear bullets whistling about his ears. He lost ground by trying, in spite of Mario's remonstrances, to keep behind him so that he might receive the first discharge.
One horseman, better mounted than the rest, almost overtook him and shouted:
"Will you stop, you knave, or must I kill you?"
"God be praised, it is Guillaume!" cried Mario; "I know his voice!"
They turned about and were not a little surprised when Guillaume charged upon them and threatened to pull the marquis from his horse.
"How now, cousin!" said Bois-Doré; "don't you recognize me?"