We came to a narrow patch now, and rode down this, the river being in sight, winding like a silver ribbon thrown carelessly down. On the opposite bank it was overhung with willows, whose drooping boughs swung low to the very surface of the water. Here and there the stump of a felled tree stood up like a sentinel. In the distance, behind us, we could hear one or two of the troopers, who had by this time managed to get through the wood, yelling and shouting as they urged their horses towards the river. Doubtless more would soon follow, and I cursed them loudly and heartily. Nicholas looked back.
'But fifteen yards of a swim, monsieur, and we are safe.'
'Not exactly. See there?'
The sergeant followed my outstretched blade, and swore too. Right before us two men galloped out of a strip of coppice that stretched to the water's edge and cut us off from the stream.
'Sacrebleu! How did they know that cut? Have at them, monsieur.'
And we did.
It had to be a matter of moments only. The troopers behind were coming on, and, if once they reached us, we could not well hope to escape again; the odds were too many. I did not, therefore, waste time, but went straight for my man, and, to do him justice, he seemed nothing loath to meet me. He cut over the shoulder, and, receiving this on my forte, I gave him the point in the centre of his breastplate, making it ring like a bell. Only a Milanese corselet could have saved him as it did. My nag went on, but turned on its haunches to the reins, and before he could well recover himself I was at him again, and discovered that he wore a demi-mask on his face.
'Monsieur, shall I prick your mask off before killing you?' I mocked, suiting the words to a thrust that all but effected the object, and ripped him on the cheek.
He was a good swordsman, but this made him beside himself with passion, and this frantic state, and the sound of his voice as he kept cursing me, told me that my opponent was none other than Biron himself. Now came a serious difficulty, which I had to consider like lightning. Did I kill him, and he was an infant in my hands, there could be no hope for me—he was too great—too highly placed for me to have any chance if I compassed his death. Therefore, as I pressed him, I called out loud enough for him to hear, 'Marshal, you are mad—go back—you are known to me.'
He thrust at me for answer; but I could stand no more nonsense, and, getting within his guard, struck him off his horse with a blow from the hilt of my sword, and, wasting not a second more on him, turned to the assistance of Nicholas.