At that moment three forms sprang lightly into the mountain road from behind a piece of fallen rock, the moon showing that each bore in its hand a firearm--a firearm raised and pointed at the advancing man and horse.
"Who goes there?" one cried. "Quick, your answer, or this," and each weapon's butt was brought to the shoulder.
"The Englishman," Martin called out in reply. "The man doomed to death to-day at Nîmes for consorting with you."
"So! Advance, Englishman. Yet in the name of the Holy One how came you here?"
"To seek for her who was my fellow-prisoner with you," he replied as he got off his horse. "Is she well?"
"She is well--"
"Behind. Up there," and he cast his eyes toward the summits. "She descends with brother Cavalier to-night."
"With Cavalier to-night! Is he back already?"
"Ay, he is back, three hours ago. Now, to-night, he descends. Nîmes is doomed. You would have been rescued by the morning. It was brother Cavalier's second plan. He warned the tyrant, Baville, to free you at pain of the girl's death, but tout de même, he meant to have you out himself. Yet," he repeated, "Nîmes is doomed."
"But why, why, since I am free?"