“How know you that, sir?” asked Lord Claud with a smile.  “If you can tell me my nationality I shall be grateful, for I am ignorant upon the point myself.”

The man’s face clouded a little; he felt a certain suspicion of the handsome stranger, and yet he must not do despite to one of His Majesty’s subjects, and Lord Claud had the air of a man of no mean status.

“Your servant is English,” he said with a touch of sullenness, “and I take it your horses are, too.  The army of His Majesty of France is badly in need of strong horses.  If you are good subjects of his you will be willing to part with them.  My horse was killed but a little way back; that one of yours would suit me right well,” and he made a step forward as though to lay a hand on Lucifer’s rein.

“Now, Tom, my boy!” said Lord Claud in a clear, low tone.

In a moment he had whipped out his pistols and fired straight at the officer, who fell face downwards almost without a groan.  Tom had meanwhile marked his man—­the foremost in the rank behind; and he rolled over like a log.

With a yell of rage and amaze the men were upon them; but Lucifer and Nell Gwynne had already reared almost upright, and now were fighting so wildly with their iron-shod hoofs that in fear and dismay the assailants fell back, whilst a second report from each pistol dropped another man dead upon the field.

“Forward! before they can take aim!” cried Lord Claud in a voice of thunder; and the horses obeyed the word without any touch of spur from their riders.

They bounded forward with an impetus which must have unseated any but an experienced horseman, and then laying themselves along the ground, they fled onwards at a gallop which astonished even Tom by its wild velocity.

A shower of bullets fell round them, but none touched either steeds or riders; the yells of the infuriated soldiers died away on their ears; the horses sped on and on as though they had wings to their feet, and only after some few miles had been traversed did the riders draw rein.

“That is always the best plan of action,” said Lord Claud, as though such an occurrence as this was a matter of everyday experience with him.  “Always appear ready to pause and parley.  It invariably disarms suspicion.  At the first every pistol or musket is levelled at your head; but if you stop to talk, these are lowered.  Then, when you have put the enemy a little off guard, make a dash for it; take them by surprise, drop a few, and confuse the rest, and you almost invariably escape with a sound skin.”

Then Lord Claud coolly proceeded to wipe and recharge his pistols, as though the escape of half an hour back had been a mere detail hardly worth discussion.

But Tom knew well that both his master and the horses they rode must have been through many such perils before this, or they could never (at any rate the horses) have shown such aptitude in playing their parts.  He had felt that the mare he rode was prepared to fight furiously with hoofs and teeth; and, as it was, she had struck down two men who had been preparing to spring at her.