By the time the grey mare's speed began to slacken Jean was sobbing frantically—would he ever reach St. Etienne in time?
"Halt! Who goes there?" the dreadful challenge rang out at length.
Jean pounded his heels into the grey mare's flanks, she made a gallant bound forward, but to no purpose: a hand seized the bridle and dragged her back upon her haunches, and Jean was hauled roughly from his seat, and hurried into a hut near by, where a number of French officers were sleeping by the fire. They were soon roused and bade Jean give an account of himself.
Desperate with fear Jean lied as he had never lied before and never would again.
"I come from Villeton," he said, "and am riding to Bousval—the English General is at Villeton with but a small escort and my father sends me to the French Captain Goulet with the news—he is in Monsieur le Capitaine's pay."
Jean had scarcely finished speaking when the order to mount was given, the commanding officer being so anxious to steal a march on Captain Goulet and secure the General himself, that he did not even remember to take Jean with him as a security for his good faith, and as soon as they were away Jean mounted his tired mare and in an hour's time was riding into St. Etienne. Here he told his story to the first English soldier who could understand him, and then, having done his duty, he fainted away from sheer exhaustion.
When he came to himself again he found he was in the midst of a group of English soldiers, who began to question him eagerly, but he shook his head, he could not understand them. Very soon an interpreter was found, and on Jean eagerly enquiring if the General were safe the young office laughed and told him he had never been near the town—"But don't look so downfallen," he said kindly, "you have saved my life, I do not doubt; I have no mind to be caught in a French trap, and we are off now to join the General, and you, my lad, had best come with us, for I fancy you would have too warm a reception if you fell into the hands of those same hussars you sent upon a wildgoose chase."
And so it fell out that Jean rode away with his new friends and shortly afterwards became attached to the English army as a drummer boy.
He did not go home until long after the war was ended, and then only on a short leave, but what was his amazement to find his father a completely altered man. Being firmly convinced that he had sent his son to his death, for the one letter Jean had managed to send had never reached the farm, poor le Grand never ceased to blame himself. He gave up drinking too much wine and took to tilling the ground and looking after his farm, and when the terrible remorse he had suffered from was removed, he found he did not care to revert to his former habits.