“Are you hurt, sire?”
Before Ludovic could answer, the horsemen were upon them.
“We shall have less chance now than ever,” Ompertz muttered, preparing, all the same, to return the expected assault.
But a strange thing happened. The on-coming horsemen halted within a few paces, showing no intention of immediate attack. Then the Count’s strong voice was heard challenging them, and at the words a ray of hope broke in upon Ompertz’s mind.
“What is the matter? What devil’s game are you playing here by night?” a sharp voice called out.
“By the God of wonders, they are strangers,” Ompertz ejaculated, in sanguine astonishment.
The Count flung back a fierce reply to the inquiry.
“What business is that of yours? Resume your way, and leave what does not concern you.”
“Are you Count Irromar?” the same sharp voice demanded.
“I am Count Irromar,” came the reply; “and answerable to no man for what happens in my own domain.”