"A body of troops," said Frojac.
"Then we may catch up with them."
"Or meet them. Perhaps they are coming this way."
"Troops on a night march!" said I.
Frojac looked at me. I saw written on his face the same thought that he saw on mine.
"Whose else could they be?" he said. "And for what other purpose?"
Had Monsieur de la Chatre, then, chosen this night for a surprise and attack on me at Maury? If he knew my hiding-place, why should he not have done so? The idea of the ambush, then, had been abandoned? Perhaps, indeed, the plan that I had overheard Montignac outline to La Chatre had been greatly modified. Had mademoiselle, if she were in truth the governor's agent, known of this night attack, if it were in truth a night attack against me? Had she fled in order to avoid the shame or the danger of being present at my capture? These and many other questions rushed through my mind.
"What shall we do?" asked Frojac, after a time.
"Go on," said I.
"But if we meet them, and they are La Chatre's men, I fear that our chances of catching up with the lady will be small."