But the woodman did not wait for any further demonstrations of hostility, but stepped calmly forth from his covert, calling out, as he did so, in a loud, clear voice:
"Whither, and whence, friends, so carelessly this bright evening?"
But ere his words were half out of his lips, he was interrupted by the sharp crack of a rifle, discharged at him within twenty paces, the ball of which sang past his head, perhaps at a foot's distance. But, entirely unmoved by the assault or by the peril he had run, he finished his sentence quietly, and then added:
"A miserably bad shot that, my lad; and a most unsoldierly act to fire a shot at all, without waiting orders. Do not you say so, lieutenant?"
"You are very much to blame yourself, fellow; first, for yelling in that wild fashion, for the purpose of creating an alarm, and then for approaching a command so rashly. Who are you, fellow, speak?"
"Fellow! fellow!" replied the other, half soliloquizing, "and a command, hey! command, truly; a couple of camaudus, or one of Jack Hays' men would make an end of such a command, before it had seen where to throw away one bullet."
"Well, sir, and who are you, then, I pray?"
"Pierre Delacroix, at your service."
"What! he who is commonly known as Pierre—"
"The Partisan, lieutenant," interrupted the other, quietly. "Yes, I am the man, and my horse, Emperor, of whom you have heard, since you have heard of me, is down in the brake yonder; and, what is the better thing just now, there is a good fire burning, and some venison steaks ready by this time, if they be not over done, and a flask of good sherry wine and some cool water; and if you and your fair lady will share the supper of the Partisan, I shall be happy to think that I am pardoned for the slight alarm I gave you; and after supper, we will hear what has brought you hither, and what I can do to serve you. Is it a bargain?"