"So I have heard." I said. "And it seems you were hustled off rather sooner than you expected, this morning."
"My master did change his mind suddenly. Yesterday he said he wouldn't leave Sablé till the end of the week."
"Yes; but of course when he received the letter—" I stopped, as if not thinking worth while to finish, and idly scrutinized the floor.
"What letter, Monsieur?" inquired the fellow, after a moment.
"Why, the letter that made him change his mind. Didn't you see the messenger?"
"Oh, and did that man bring a letter, then?"
"Certainly. How secretive your master is. The man from—from—where did he come from, anyhow?"
"A man came to see my master at Sablé early this morning—the only man I know of. I heard him say that he had ridden all the way from Montoire, following my master from one town to another."
"Yes, that is the man, certainly," said I in as careless a manner as possible, fearful lest my face should betray the interest of this revelation to me. "Well, I think I will go and see what has become of my servant. When you have finished that bottle, drink another to me." I tossed him a silver piece, and sauntered out. Nicolas was fastening the saddle girth of my horse in the yard. An ostler was attending to the mule. The innkeeper was looking on. I asked him about the different roads leading from the place, and by the time I had got this information all was ready. We mounted, I replied to the landlord's adieu, threw a coin to the ostler, and clattered out under the archway. From the square I turned South to cross the Loir, passing not far from the place where, surrounded by trees and bushes, the body of my adversary must still be lying.
"Poor young man!" said I. "Once we get safe off, I hope they will find him soon."