"A clumsy imitation," quickly; "it is not my writing. I suppose, then, that this is also a forgery?" handing him a note which was worded identically the same as his own, "Some one has been playing us a sorry trick." She was angered.
"Let us go back immediately, Madame. We stand in the midst of some secret danger."
But even as he spoke she uttered a suppressed cry and clutched his arm.
The Chevalier saw four men advancing with drawn swords. They formed a semicircle around the hut, cutting off all avenues of escape. Quickly he thrust madame into the hut, whipped out his blade, bared his arm, and waited just inside the doorway. Everything was plain to him. Eh! well, some one would take the journey with him; he would not set out alone. And madame! He was unnerved for a moment.
"Diane," he said, "forgive me as easily as I forgive you," he said quietly. "And pray for us both. I shall be too busy."
She fell upon her knees, folding her hands across her heaving bosom. Her lips moved, but without sound. She saw, possibly, farther into this dark design than the Chevalier. Women love brave men, even as brave men love woman's beauty; and persistently into her prayers stole the thought that this man who was about to defend her honor with his life was among the bravest. A sob choked her.
"D'Hérouville, you black scoundrel, why do you come so slowly?" challenged the Chevalier. "The single window is too small for a man to crawl through. Think you to pass this way?"
"I am going to try!" cried D'Hérouville, triumphantly. How well everything had turned out. "Now, men, stand back a little; there will be some sword play."
"I'll engage the four of you in the open, if madame is permitted to go free." The Chevalier urged, this simply to gain time. He knew what the answer would be.
D'Hérouville appealed to Corporal Frémin. "Is that not an excellent joke, my Corporal?"