"It may be so," I admitted, not anxious to dispute the point.
We were still several miles from Aunay, when the sergeant, who rode with two men in the rear, trotted forward briskly, and reining up my horse, I waited for the soldier to speak.
"Are we likely to be pursued, monsieur?" asked he.
"It is just possible. Why?"
"Because there are a score of horsemen on our track. Pierre, who has keen sight, declares they are cavaliers, young bloods most likely, from Paris."
In a few minutes they came within sight, and, as they approached more closely, I recognised that Pierre's description was correct. They certainly were not ordinary soldiers, and the only doubt remaining was whether they were friends or foes.
The grizzled sergeant decided the question for me.
"Frondeurs, monsieur," he announced with the utmost coolness.
"Then they intend to rescue our prisoners. Can we throw them off?"
"We can try, monsieur, but they will probably overtake us in ten minutes."