"Bon Dieu! M. le Chevalier on foot?"
"My horse was shot in a skirmish yesterday."
"Tais-toi, nous serrons entendus, monsieur," said Arnaud, in a subdued voice, and presenting arms as I came close to him.
"Pourquoi?" said I, with affected impatience.
"Because the King of Prussia's Black Hussars are within musket shot of us."
"Where?"
"Among yonder trees," said all the soldiers together in a whisper.
"It matters not to me," said I; "we go under cartel."
I now perceived that one of the six soldiers had his head and face tied up with bloodstained handkerchiefs.
"And this big Gendarme?" inquired Arnaud, pointing to Hob Elliot.