He was somewhat relieved by this promise, and his face brightened considerably.
"Let Urie bring an iron bar," he laughed, "and a man need wear a thick steel cap to save his skull!"
I went to bed hoping to obtain a good night's rest, but the startling tragedy had weakened my nerves more than I guessed, and I lay awake a long time, wondering what the secret was that the dead man had carried with him to the grave. Was he really a messenger from L'Estang? And if so, what was the news he was bringing? I little dreamed that one of these questions was to be answered within a few hours.
We rose early; I saw that Jacques made a good breakfast, and was standing in the courtyard giving him his final instructions when we heard the clatter of hoofs, and saw a horseman coming at a gallop up the slope.
"Another visitor!" I exclaimed, "and one apparently in a desperate hurry."
Jacques dismounted, saying, "He looks as if he had been frightened half out of his wits. Stay here, monsieur, while I find out what he wants."
In a few minutes he returned with the man, who, jumping from his horse, said questioningly, "Monsieur Le Blanc?"
"Yes," I said, looking at him keenly. He might have been own brother to the poor fellow whom Urie had found by the wood. He was short but strongly built; his face was scarred; his skin red and rough through continual exposure to the weather. He carried a sword and a long knife, and a pair of pistols peeped from the holsters. Plainly he was a man accustomed to take his life in his hand.
"You have ridden fast!" I remarked, for his animal's sides were lathered with foam.
"I was paid to ride fast!" he answered surlily; "my employer feared you would have started."