"'Tis a rough dog, L'Estang has sent me," I thought, "but one that will bite if need be. I wonder if the fellow he fired at was one of Cordel's ruffians? Strange that neither Jacques nor I saw him."
The incident had rendered us more cautious, and we proceeded through the wood carefully, keeping a sharp lookout and listening intently; but the mysterious man had vanished so completely that I began to wonder if Casimir had not been a victim of his imagination.
From the wood we turned into the highroad, and after travelling steadily for nearly three hours halted at a wayside inn. For myself I wished to push on, and Jacques was equally impatient, but our guide complained that his horse was tired and needed a rest.
"'Twould be folly to risk foundering a valuable animal for the sake of getting to a place before one is wanted there," said he, laughing as if he had made some humorous remark. But laughter was not Casimir's strong point, and he made a sorry business of it.
However, since we were entirely in his hands, he had his way, and much precious time was wasted.
"It will take us three days at this rate to reach Poictiers," grumbled Jacques, as we resumed the journey.
"We shall be there as soon as we are expected," returned Casimir, who seemed to have a fresh fit of sullenness, which increased rather than lessened as we proceeded.
About five miles from our stopping-place, two horsemen overtook us. They were cantering briskly along, but drew rein to bid us good-day.
"Are you for Poictiers?" asked one of them pleasantly, but before I had time to reply our guide broke in roughly:
"We are going where we please. The highroad is free to all, I suppose!"