"Stand back, all of you!" shouted the captain, beside himself with rage and mortification. "Stand back! Do thou, Jehan, cast thy sword and its sheath from thee lest thou die! And do thou, Geoffroi, ride fifty paces behind us, and hold communication with no man till the law respecting contagion is complied with. Now back to the town with all speed, mes enfants, for I have an account to settle with Maitre Raoul! What will they say of us when they hear we have vanquished nought but a pair of lepers?"
The troop galloped away down the dusty road towards St. Brieuc, the unfortunate soldier following in the rear, his face ashen with terror at the thought of the loathsome death he had courted, while two mottled grey corpses, a discarded sword, and the imprints of the hoofs of the cavalry alone remained to mark the scene of so swift and terrible a tragedy.
Shuddering at the thought of their narrow escape, Raymond and his father rose, and with averted faces, left behind them the bodies of the ill-fated men, and pursued their journey. Not till they were two leagues from the spot did they halt; then, selecting a secluded coppice, they threw themselves on the ground and were soon deep in dreamless slumber.
The sun had set and the stars were beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky ere the travellers awoke stiff and cramped with lying on the bare earth; but stern duty urged them onwards, and with swinging stride they resumed their way.
Along the deserted highway, past the slumbering village of Ploeue they jogged, too discomforted and weary even to engage in conversation.
About two hours after midnight they were startled by hearing the sound of horsemen behind them. Without hesitation Redward sprang to the side of the road, dragging the squire with him; then kneeling down and placing his ear to the ground he listened intently.
"'Tis but a pair of horsemen," he whispered. "See to thy sword, for there will be work afoot for us!"
The riders had now slackened down to a slow trot, and by their conversation the Englishmen recognised that one of them was an old acquaintance—none other than the Sieur d'Erqui.
"Once have we met him, and once at least hath he done us a service," muttered the bowman in a low tone. "Methinks yet another service will he render us. Now, follow me!"
Giving a tremendous salute with his rattle, Redward, with Raymond close at his heels, sprang into the road and barred the Sieur's way. Taken aback, his face livid with superstitious fear, d'Erqui reined in his steed, while his companion, evidently a retainer, did likewise.