"I did; he comes from our own neighbourhood. It is possible he has seen us before."
"And what of that?"
"Nothing, except that it is curious," and Jacques quickened his pace.
At the end of a quarter of a mile a cross-road to the left led to the river, and along this track we travelled. It was very narrow, so narrow, indeed, that we were forced to ride in single file, Jacques going before. The stranger had disappeared; no one was in sight; the countryside seemed deserted.
"Do you know where the ford is situated?" I asked.
"I have a fairly good notion. Ah, what is that?" and he reined up sharply.
From our position we could just catch a glimpse of several horsemen riding swiftly along the bank of the river. They were out of sight in a few minutes, and we proceeded in a somewhat uncomfortable frame of mind.
"They can have nothing to do with us, Jacques," I said cheerily.
"No, monsieur, nothing," he replied.
"How much farther do we go before descending?"