CHAPTER III
The Fight by the Way
They watched us furtively, as, with seeming carelessness, we descended the slope, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the pace as the ground became less steep. There were five of them in all, and presently I perceived that the one a little in advance of the group was the unknown cavalier whom we had directed to the house of Etienne Cordel.
"Draw level, monsieur. Now!" and the next instant we were dashing down the remaining part of the slope at terrific speed.
It was a wild ride, a ride so mad that many a night afterwards I started from sleep with the sensation of being hurled through space. The horses flew, their hoofs seeming not to touch the ground; had we wished, we should have found it impossible to check their headlong career. Nearer and nearer we approached; the horsemen wavered visibly, their leader alone remaining unmoved.
There was a loud report; a ball whizzed past, and we heard a cry of "In the king's name!"
For answer we discharged our pistols almost at point-blank distance, and a horse rolled over heavily with its rider.
"One down!" cried Jacques in triumph, drawing his sword and aiming a desperate blow at the leader, who called out—"The boy! Capture the boy! Shoot his horse, you dolts!"
He thrust at me vigorously, but, parrying the attack more by luck than good management, I dashed on, Jacques crying, "This way, monsieur, quick!"